Beyond The Veil
by NaniteSystems
Summary: Harry's unspeakably bored, and bored Unspeakables make bad decisions. Like jumping through the Veil of Death, when they're barely even certain it's safe. Where it goes? …That's still a mystery. But hey! "Chase that flighty temptress adventure," right?...Right? - Harry steps through the Veil, and into Mass Effect. The Reapers won't know what hit them. MODHarry.
1. Have Magic, Will Travel

**Author's Note:  
This chapter has been edited as of 5/8/2017. Plot holes have been removed, words have been replaced, and the chapter in general has been improved.**

 **If you couldn't already tell, I do not own this story, and make no profit from it.**

Harry was exhausted.

His job as an Unspeakable was somewhat sedentary most of the time, but it had its moments. He was certain this was one. On his lunch break, of all places and times, he'd just made an astounding breakthrough about the artifact known as the 'Veil of Death,' deep in the Department of Mysteries. He'd been fascinated by this device for a while; his interest had led him to numerous advancements in warding techniques and runes during his pursuit of knowledge. He'd been lauded extensively by the Head Unspeakable for these smaller insights, but his latest discovery was one he would not be sharing.

All the Unspeakables in the department knew that the Veil was a portal. However, unlike many of his colleagues, Harry was certain that the other end of the portal led somewhere safe. Exactly where, he couldn't decipher, but the runes engraved on the base of the artifact left no room for misinterpretation. The portal's destination was safe, but it was a long way away. At least, that was what Harry interpreted from that particular arrangement of the rune of personal protection and the rune of distance. The implications were staggering. Harry's wanderlust tingled.

….

Harry had grown used to living by the seat of his pants, always on the alert, always in suspense, living with a healthy dose of paranoia even after the end of the war. It had taken a heavy toll on him, and he had lost his sense of purpose. That was how he had met his current love interest. The Greengrass fortunes had declined sharply under the management of Phineas Greengrass, and Daphne Greengrass, his heiress, had been left nearly destitute. Both Harry and Daphne had met at a muggle bar in Wales while trying to drown their sorrows, and Harry had offered to get her a hotel room after learning that she didn't have anywhere to stay. An hour later, a very confused Harry had Daphne bawling into his shoulder. They became fast friends, and remained so, even when Harry decided to leave Magical Britain behind. Harry and Daphne kept up a constant correspondence for many months afterwards. Eventually, the two slowly became more than friends, and acted on their feelings towards each other.

At the time, it was the happiest portion of Harry's life.

Both Daphne and Harry then reevaluated their lives, and the status of the magical world. They found it lacking, and resolved to make a concerted effort to improve the plight of all sentient magical creatures throughout the world. In preparation, Daphne began investing Harry's fortune, with a good eye for incredible returns.

Harry, on the other hand, spent a few years as a vigilante when he realized the extent of the state of disrepair that the wizarding world had fallen into. This shattered the sense of boredom and depression that he had been falling into, and satisfied his constant need for action and excitement.

There was much that needed improvement, in every part of Magical Britain. Numerous packs of werewolves roamed freely, vampires fed nightly, and the Ministry of Magic was disinclined to do anything about it, as long as the bribes kept flowing in.

Harry helped everyone, the world over. Magical governments wanted dark lords dead; Muggle governments wanted forces of chaos suppressed. The requests varied immeasurably, but the execution was generally the same.

Harry kept tabs on Magical Britain, and became disquieted when many purebloods were able to buy their way out of prison. Apparently money still trumped common sense, as corrupt judges refused to convict wealthy Death Eaters, despite eyewitness accounts and ironclad evidence. Harry had robbed most of the surviving Death Eaters blind, after the Imperius plea was used to successfully evade massive penalties. He had cowed the populations of vampires and werewolves into submission, and created safe havens for them, far away from the Ministry's misguided prejudice. However, Harry's crusade was not limited to the outcasts of society. In his efforts to improve the status of the magical world, he had quickly realized that he needed to learn all he could about magic.

His studies had only truly picked up speed after Harry's rediscovery of Occlumency gave him a nearly photographic memory. As his hyphenated titles grew in number, Harry drew interest from international organizations the world over, eager to teach him and his love interest in exchange for a piece of their fame.

Taking advantage of this, Harry traveled the world, learning the cultures and magics of distant lands. Somewhat selfishly, Harry's first stop was the Nimbus Broom Company, ('Makers of Fine Brooms Since 1333') to learn how to make the brooms that he flew. Later, Harry studied Egyptian wards from cursebreakers in the Valley of Kings, where ancient Egyptian pharaohs were buried, hidden, and lost amidst the churning sands of time. Harry was taught Parselmagic by Indian snake charmers and healers, used for both healing and devastation. He pillaged tattered, moldy tomes of ancient runes from Norse temples, long ago ravaged by wind and rain, and studied magical travel, including apparation and broomless flight. Harry was taught the Animagus transformation by the Native American tribes of the North Americas, after he killed a legendary creature that had driven many tribes nearly to extinction. He discovered blood magic from the remnants of the Aztec and Mayan peoples, used in rituals to increase power and to control dangerous magics including fiendfyre. Harry's studies continued with Voodoo, used to enchant objects to the greatest effect, Battle magic and some Dark magic from Russia, Germany and the remains of the magical Soviet Union, including Gellert Grindelwald's own version of fiendfyre: Hellfire. But Harry would always return to his heavily protected cottage off the coast of Scotland, on the hidden isle of Avalon.

…...

Harry reluctantly wandered homewards from his extended vacation, after a letter from Hermione requested that he attend as the keynote speaker for the tenth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts and subsequent death of Voldemort. He attended, spoke, and realized that he had been away for nine long years. While Harry's friends had gotten married, began having kids, and grown into early middle age, Harry remained unchanged. Sure, he had grown muscle, filled out his no-longer scrawny frame, and gained a little bit of height, but he still had to answer questions on his age for nearly the entire memorial service. Afterwards, he spoke to Hermione, and she tearfully pulled from her pocket a worn picture taken of the Golden Trio almost immediately after the end of the war. While Hermione and Ron had clearly aged since the picture was taken, Harry's picture could almost have been his mirror image.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione got together later that night, and Harry confessed everything. He told them how he was likely one of the wealthiest men on the face of the planet, with the Potter, Peverell, and Black fortunes, combined with stolen Death Eater gold, Daphne's skill in investments, and vast sums of money from his exploits in cursebreaking in the Valley of Kings.

Harry related to them how he had spent the last nine years of his life traveling, learning, and throwing himself into the fray in an attempt to allay his guilt by making the world a better place.

Hermione was excited at the revelation that Harry's blood was simultaneously the most poisonous substance in existence, and one of the best restoratives in the world at the same time.

She had marveled over his immune system- the shard of basilisk tooth embedded in his forearm had contained a basilisk venom-gland, and Fawkes' phoenix tears had soaked into his bone marrow. To her vast surprise, Harry's body produced both the venom and the tears in equal quantities, giving him a near unheard of recovery time, and near-immunity to any disease she'd cared to name.

Research in the depths of an ancient vampire's crypt led to Harry's use of blood rituals to increase reflexes and situational awareness, fix his eyesight, and make his bones almost unbreakable.

Ron had scoffed when Harry told the pair the tale of how a passing interest in alchemy had turned into a written correspondence with Nicholas Flamel, the 'immortal alchemist,' leading to the creation of another sorcerer's stone, and the creation and use of Re'em blood elixir. That magical cocktail permanently gave Harry moderately increased strength, endurance, hearing, and balance, with the downside of a new immunity to alcohols.

"You can't get _drunk?_ That's a horrible trade, Harry-" Ron had managed before a poke from Hermione drained the blood from his face. "I mean, That's great! That sounds wonderful." Ron had said, hand moving to protect a flask at his belt.

The golden trio laughed all night, falling back into their old camaraderie.

After some time spent bantering and discussing the past, Harry continued his story.

Eventually, late into the night, Harry broke down and told Ron and Hermione about the Deathly Hallows. They affected his magic in ways he still didn't understand, giving the trio questions to ponder late into the night.

Harry didn't have to use a wand anymore, as he could cast with the power of the Elder Wand through his hands. Despite his best efforts placed into getting rid of the Hallows, he still woke with them waiting for him on his bedside table, or in his suitcase, or even on his person. In times of need, the Elder Wand gave advice, and whispered incantations into his ear.

Harry told Ron and Hermione, as the sun came up, of the second, third, and fourth times that he had died, and how his consciousness had descending into a buzzing numbness, only for him to feel a tugging sensation, and suddenly wake as if from a nightmare, but with new scars.

Harry told them how he was the Master of Death.

Ron responded with "Wicked!"

Hermione recommended therapy.

Hermione had eventually told Harry about a position in the Department of Mysteries, and Harry, after deliberating for a while, took the opportunity with both hands. He worked with whatever items piqued his interest: time-turners, prophecies, ancient artifacts, and things that evidently only he could understand. But nothing interested him more than the Veil of Death. He could hear whispering voices behind it, and while nobody else believed it, Harry was convinced that it was a portal to somewhere else. Just where, well. Harry had no idea.

All he knew of the Veil's destination, according to the runes etched on the base of the artifact, was that the portal dropped the user into a (generally) safe area, a vast distance from the portal itself.

And Harry was bored.

Painfully and excruciatingly bored out of his wits.

Over the course of months of study, Harry had concluded that he wouldn't be able to figure out anything more about the Veil without doing something drastic. His wanderlust tingled.

…

A few months later, Harry stood in front of the Veil of Death, with a suitcase and a wand in hand, a silvery cloak across his shoulders, and a ring with a pebble instead of a gemstone in the center. He had said his goodbyes already, and had prepared as if he would be walking into Armageddon.

He had spoken with Daphne about the journey, and she knew full well that he may never come back. Her only real consolation was that Harry had given her a device that would let him record one message, and would deliver itself to Daphne as soon as Harry passed through the veil. Harry had promised to send it as soon as he could.

She had given him her blessing, on his expedition, and had jokingly allowed him to woo other women if he could not return to her. On her advice, he had taken a greenhouse under a stasis charm with almost every conceivable magical plant in his suitcase, along with around 150 tons of gold, courtesy of his sorcerer's stone. On Hermione's advice, he had multiple libraries hidden in an expanded trunk, inside his expanded briefcase. Harry, after some deliberation, brought a single time-turner, 'borrowed' from the Department of Mysteries mere minutes ago. In fact, he was just about to step through, when a phoenix landed on his shoulder.

"Hello, Fawkes." Harry spoke, surprised. He was answered by a trilling, melodic voice singing,

" _I'm coming with you. It is time to go on to the next great adventure. Though we must part ways once we pass through the veil, I will always be able to help you, or any other being who is pure of heart in a moment of dire need."_

Shaking his head, Harry chuckled, and said, half to himself, 'Into the great unknown, again, Fawkes? First into the Chamber of Secrets, then into the Hall of Prophecy, and now through the Veil of Death. Let's hope there aren't any basilisks or Death Eaters that need killing on the other side of this."

And with that final comment, and a muttered, "Farewell," Harry stepped through the Veil.

Magical travel has never been comfortable. Even the pioneers of magical travel, the vikings, never managed to make their ride easy. Their boats, engraved with countless runes to decrease the friction of the boat against the water, or to bring magical wind to the sails, let them wreak havoc on cities and coasts far from friendly ports. But they never managed to remove a jarring, chaotic shaking feeling, and overuse of those early versions of apparation caused vast storms that could sink even those swift masterpieces of aquatic engineering.

Harry knew immediately that the Veil was similar to the methods of transportation used by the Norse. Unfortunately, this burst of inspiration didn't come from some sudden realization based off of rune or charm work, but from the sheer discomfort caused by the ride. Harry had experienced his share of rough apparations, including one especially memorable instance where he side-along apparated no less than six people. This ride, this twisting, turning, blue-black funnel of energy, felt as if Harry was being squeezed through a cheese grater.

After an unknowable amount of time, Harry landed on solid ground.

He stared, and his jaw dropped. Around him towered an alien city, filled with strange buildings that rose into the sky, and oddly-shaped flying vehicles that buzzed frantically by. A nearby garden contained plants that he couldn't seem to recognise. Moving as if on autopilot, Harry took samples of some of the nearby flora. His throat burned from the air, and the sun seemed too bright, and a little more red than normal. Harry looked towards the horizon, and his chin dropped further in shock. A massive orb, a planet of some sort, was clearly visible taking up a significant amount of the sky. Slightly luminous, it was clear that some fusion still took place in its depths. A brown Dwarf star? Harry was never the best student in astronomy class.

Harr

The sound of rapid gunfire rang out. Some sort of weapon was firing into the clouds with a staccato _pht-pht-pht._ After a few seconds, more gunfire joined the first weapon battery.

Harry heard screams, then watched a massive ray of red light and heat hit a skyscraper nearby, cutting and burning its supports. Harry stared, as the screams multiplied in number. The skyscraper shuddered, and collapsed with a screech of rending metal that echoed across the city.

Harry's eyes widened.

Far in the sky, he could see a massive squid-shaped ship descending. Trails of heat surrounded it, as remnants of its reentry into the atmosphere. He heard the cry again, a ear-shattering bass thrum that rattled his bones. He looked at the ship, and it seemed to look at him. Then, all of a sudden, Harry felt a presence sweep across his mind, vast and pitiless. He stumbled, as a massive mental attack raced towards his mindscape.

Harry raised his Occlumency shields immediately, and felt sledge-hammer blow after sledge-hammer blow crash against his mental shields. Harry had dealt with mental attacks before. He knew how to shield against them. Marshalling his magic, Harry's mind whirled as he hid it away, safe from further legilimency assaults.

Harry looked at the strange ship. It seemed to have a mind of it's own. If something had a mind, it should have a soul, Harry mused. But just where was its soul? The wizard pulled magic into his eyes, and _stared._ The craft didn't have a soul- it had _millions of souls._ All of them corrupted, blackened, and twisted.

Hm. If it had a thousand souls, did it have a thousand minds? Was it still susceptible to Legilimency? Harry considered. Surely it couldn't do any harm to test. Almost on reflex, Harry focused himself, and yelled a single word, suffused with power.

" _Legilimens!"_ He cried out, and the world seemed to shift. Time slowed, and Harry's surroundings were suddenly replaced with the the mindscape of the squid-like ship. Its mental shields thrummed into existence, a thick black field that spurred a psychic war, back and forth, winning one second, then losing the next.

Finally, with a monumental effort, Harry battered down the being's mental shields, and shattered them. They fell away, sparking with malice. Desperately trying to reconnect the sundered fragments of its shield, the Reaper left itself vulnerable. Harry passed through the remains of the being's undefended mindscape, eyes searching, until he found himself by the manifestation of the being's memories.

Bracing himself, Harry grimaced and closed his eyes in horror as he began the process of assimilating the being's memory. He saw how this ship, and all others like it, had always been referred to as some translation of the word 'Reaper', for that was what they did. They took organic races and harvested them, and turned them into more Reapers.

Harry's thoughts became disjointed. He had realized what this thing was, conceptually. But as he saw the figures, and tried to comprehend the whole mess, he realized something startling.

These things, these 'Reapers' had some rudimentary form of magic. Likely some sort of Rune cluster, which could cause… Indoctrination. That was the best name for it. The slow subversion of free will. Harry looked around for the runes and the rune cluster, and found the runic alphabet that the runes were constructed from in the thoughts of the Reaper. A massive number of symbols, meanings, rune clusters. The complete magical alphabet of an ancient race.

Harry smiled gleefully, and ripped the knowledge from the mind of the Reaper. He was not gentle. With this information, came designs, technology, plans, and memories of atrocities. Harry knew there were hundreds, or even thousands of Reapers. But for the moment, he only focused on destroying this one.

He brought his arm up, and slowly exited the being's mind. In his mind's eye, nodes of the Reaper's personality blinked frantically, then desperately, then not at all. Fractured pieces tried hopelessly to connect with the whole, or reboot something- anything else. A billion alien voices screamed out in triumph.

Gasping, Harry gathered his anger, his rage at the horrors this monstrous creature and its kind had perpetrated, and looked for energy. He felt the plants around him, and the Ley line under his feet. He felt the clouds above him rolling in, and the raw power of the thunderstorm about to begin. Then something took hold. Some unthinkable well of energy like nothing Harry had felt before. And something pushed its way in. Not from the Reaper, but from the ring on Harry's finger. The Resurrection Stone.

Uncountable voices raged, and roared, and wept. One universal consensus grasped Harry's soul, and _pushed._ Power flowed into his hands like the sea trying to pass through the eye of a needle.

Harry summoned a small pebble, and transfigured it into something more formidable. It flowed like water, until a smooth spike of gleaming metal hovered in front of him. He hit it with a powerful Unbreakable charm, and an Impervious charm. The magic struck, and adhered with a satisfied rush of strange feelings that Harry knew weren't his own.

" _Depulso!"_ Harry cried, casting the banishing charm with all of his might.

Fueled by the power of the Elder Wand, the righteous fury of the Master of Death, the central ley line of a planet, and a billion souls of the dead, a stream of blue energy traveled out of the tip of Harry's index finger.

It hit the hovering spike, and disappeared. The spear of metal, charmed to be unbreakable, shot off so quickly that a vast shockwave of superheated air followed its wake, propelling an incredible glowing spray of thousand-degree air skywards.

With some animalistic instinct, the crippled Reaper tried to run. It turned, so quickly that centrifugal force tore swathes of armor off of the body of the ship. But as soon as the spell hit the spear there was a deafening **'BOOM!'** as the stone was launched, traveling at such a speed that there could be no chance of dodging it.

The slug of steel, charmed to be unbreakable and frictionless, hit the Reaper almost dead center, blasting through its kinetic barriers, through its armor, and upwards into the outer atmosphere, towards the vast expanse of space.

Harry shook his head slowly, as blackness crept up in the edges of his vision. That wasn't the result he'd expected. Not at all. It felt… as if an unknowable being had diverted his thoughts, for a moment. As if some eldritch chill had crept into his bones, and exacted some mysterious price.

" **SLEEP, MY CHAMPION. ALL WILL BE WELL UNTIL YOU WAKE."** a voice said, in an octave of whispers, cobwebs, and cold.

The wizard felt a bone-deep weariness, a weight on his eyelids, a call to surrender to his rattled mind and sleep. He needed to absorb the millions of years of knowledge that he had taken from the Reaper, as well. He'd never heard of something like that being done before. If it had… Surely it had shattered minds.

With his last shred of effort, Harry cast a sticking charm on his briefcase, before collapsing into unconsciousness.

A massive shockwave expanded outwards from the point of impact, knocking buildings into each other. Supports fractured, and metal groaned. Buildings fell, and the alien city collapsed in upon itself. Fires burned, and aircraft crashed. But after the massive shockwave caused by his spell, there was silence. Other than the occasional crash of slowly settling rubble, there was nothing. Hours later, an eerie silence pervaded the area. More Reapers flew over the area, hovering briefly, then flew off. Red flashes of distant light and clouds of towering flame signalled this planet's end. Mere days later, every part of the planet would be nothing but a desolate, ash-covered landscape of rocks and craters.

 **Time Passes**

Not far beneath the rubble, in a ruined city on the moon Lethe, in orbit of the gas giant Mnemosyne, a body lay still. For months, then years, then millennia. Epochs passed. Millions upon millions of years blurred into history, unnoticed by hundreds of races, each annihilated by the same inexorable destructive force of the Reapers.

And then the Prothean empire rose to the height of its power. The largest military force the galaxy had ever seen- resplendent, radiant, and secure in their own superiority.

The Reapers ground them to dust, like they had so many other races, through the ages. But the protheans left behind secrets, and secret weapons. They killed more Reapers than had been destroyed in every cycle before them combined. Scientific installations across the galaxy worked on means and methods to destroy the terrifying invaders. In rare cases, their weapons came online before the researchers succumbed to the Reaper onslaught.

But the greatest of their weapons remained. Their creations -formed from primitive species, enhanced and uplifted into sentience- remained.

Turian.  
Asari.

Drell.

And above all, their most worthy creation, the crowning jewel of the last and greatest prothean lab- aboard the dreadnought they called the Eden- produced one final creation.

Humans.

But all was not well. The Protheans had never known that there was a 'Vanguard' of the Reapers. A lone Reaper for each cycle, set to guide civilizations to their destruction. They could not hope to counteract such a plot. But they planned for the future, going so far as to break the sole commandment passed down from each Prothean's forefathers. So with a whirr, and a synthetic hum, an AI was created to oversee the running of the great ship Eden.

Phonetically, its name was Abraham.

The creation of synthetic intelligence was a common plan by the end of the Reaper war. It was dangerous, and what best to oppose a force like the Reapers than an AI? An immortal being, capable of transferring its mind from platform to platform, and creating and controlling a near-infinite fleet with perfect reaction times.

But as always, there were complications.

Abraham's shackles were never removed. A losing battle against the Reaper Vanguard led to the destruction of the Eden, and a few clusters of fission weapons left on a trajectory or earth impacted in the Adriatic Sea, causing periods of rain and flooding across Europe and the middle east. Nazara later seeded the world with bio-engineered weapons, designed to wipe humanity from existence. But the Reaper underestimated human resilience. Hardy folks weathered the Black Plague as best they could, and then went back to life as normal. Influenza was much the same. Much more virile, and much more deadly, the disease passed through the population like a scythe through chaff. But still humans held on.

Even at the dawn of human existence, far before the last of the Protheans tinkered with the minds and genetics of mitochondrial adam and eve, we evolved to counter vicious diseases, and our immune systems developed with gusto.

Even far into humanity's information era, the spread of Ebola was limited and contained within months. Nazara, for some unknowable reason- Arrogance, perhaps? Frustration?- left for batarian space before seeing the fruits of its work.

Around that time, the Leviathan of Dis was discovered, and the Batarian Hegemony's descent into corruption, immorality, and slavery worsened drastically.

There were other AI, as well. Athame, for the asari. Also known as Vendetta, the AI took an asari form, as it preached peace, advancement, and power. It retreated into a fail-safe mode when distant sensors detected the arrival of Nazara, the Reaper vanguard.

On Palaven, 'the Spirits' were the fractured, rampant remains of an AI more ambitious than any other. Nazara placed an indoctrination monolith at the very heart of Temple Palaven- directly above where the Spirits' databanks had lay.

A triumvirate of brain-uploads sufficed for the drell; Amonkira, Kalahira, and Arashu taught that the mind and the soul were separate from the body- perhaps hoping for others to join them in an uploaded state, when able.

They were suppressed, discredited, and deleted by indoctrinated followers of Nazara long before the population crash that claimed nine of the remaining eleven billion Drell on Rakhana, their homeworld.

...

Then the year 2147 rolled around.

…

" **ARISE, MY MASTER."** a voice thrummed through Harry's existence.

The wizard's eyes shot open. He panicked, or tried to. Coming fully awake, he realized that he was buried, and began the process of calming his nerves. He wasn't far underground, if the pressure on his chest was anything to estimate by, he mused. So this was bad, but not terrifyingly so.

While he did have a full-body bubble-head charm around him, Harry was still very uncomfortable with the thought of dying trapped underground. He may not be able to die, but he didn't want to test what would happen if he kept resurrecting, just to die again, and again, and again from environmental conditions.

So, with straining effort, Harry guided himself blindly through the process of apparation. Feeling like he was being squeezed through a tube just slightly too small for his body, Harry apparated one mile straight up, and suddenly, he was skydiving without a parachute.

Harry materialized in the middle of a thin dusty atmosphere, falling quickly towards the drab rocky ground. As he fell, Harry slowly oriented himself. He was in freefall. For any other wizard, this may have been an issue, but Harry had at least five flight-capable devices on his person. Surprisingly, only three were illegal, according to the British Ministry of Magic. Harry had also learned how to fly without a broom the same way Voldemort had: by raiding a Norse or British library of druidic magic, and practicing. Lots and lots of practicing. It took Harry a long time to learn, but he had always loved flying. And while a simple ' _Aresto Momentum,'_ would have worked, it would have had to be properly timed, or Harry would wind up as a red stain on the ground.

So Harry flew. His terminal velocity freefall slowed, as he reached the ground, landing lightly on the balls of his feet. But the world he landed on was not the world he had collapsed on. It couldn't be! It was a mere ball of rock, with no cities, no sunset, no atmosphere thick enough to support life, no strong ley lines- Harry stopped. Here was the ley line, or what remained of it. As he examined the ley line, it passed some information, a feeling, to him. Gently, sadly, with despair, Harry realized the truth of his situation.

This world was dead. With the death of its people, the magic of this planet had withered away. The Reapers had destroyed this civilization, this culture. Never again would this planet support life. But how long had he slept? How long was he unconscious? Harry wondered. The ground was dust and rock. He would never have known there was once a thriving civilization here if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.  
Harry looked into the sky. The brown dwarf star was still covering a significant portion of the horizon. However, it was noticeably darker. It had lost some of its luminosity during Harry's coma. Harry sighed. It was still beautiful. Having very little atmosphere made for a wonderful view of the stars. With no clouds and very few particles to obscure his sight, Harry was content.

Harry walked. He traveled from ridge to ridge, mountain to mountain. The climate was inhospitably cold, without enough oxygen for him to breathe, if not for his modified bubblehead and warming charms.

As he walked, Harry considered his situation. Channelling such an immense amount of power had taken its toll, and had definitely drained the ley line by a significant amount. As Harry looked through his mindscape, he realized that it had also damaged his magical core. There had been no permanent damage, but it would have taken time to repair. A long time. That, combined with the need to absorb millions of years of Reaper memories must have left him sleeping for…

Harry frowned, then rechecked his estimate. Yes, that estimate was right. Harry paled. He had been sleeping for nearly thirty-seven million years.

"What could have happened in thirty-seven million years?" Harry said aloud, disbelieving.

A more panicked thought jolted through his head, 'Did humanity even exist in this strange new world? Had they been killed by the Reapers?' Then Harry was distracted from his panicked frame of mind by a whistling noise that was slowly gaining in volume. He stopped, and looked up.

Silhouetted against the night stars was a glowing blue streak. Harry frowned, and looked closer. The streak...was getting larger? Harry sat, and watched the streak grow larger and larger, until he realized that it was some sort of craft! It dropped rapidly, until it activated a set of thrusters, and landed not far from where Harry stood. His eyes widened when he used his mage sight on the vehicle. It seemed to have some source of magic aboard!

He could see a glowing sphere in the center of the ship, pulsating slightly, and two smaller spheres dimly flickering near a slowly lowering ramp. Then Harry noticed some sort of strange erratically pulsing arrangement of the energy spheres in a vaguely humanoid shape. Harry looked again, interested. What could that mean? Was there a being that emitted this strange form of energy?

As the craft lowered the ramp, a grey alien wearing a breathing apparatus that obscured his face grabbed what appeared to be a blue woman (Harry rubbed his eyes and looked again) and threw her off the ramp. She? It? Seemed to start choking, desperately trying to get enough oxygen to survive in the thin atmosphere. She stood, and then tried to run, weaving as if she were drunk. She stumbled, and fell heavily, still choking on the thin atmosphere. The grey alien then pulled a sidearm, and held it by his thigh, his message clear. If the blue woman tried anything, the grey alien would shoot her.

Harry scowled, and raised his hand, the words of a spell on his lips. It was then that Harry noticed the glowing lines that ran through her body. In his mage sight, the blue woman glowed faintly. He would have to do some research. This woman was likely the source of the strange humanoid arrangement of energy. It seemed that she had many small glowing spheres interspersed throughout her body, connected by glowing lines that traced the major veins in her nervous system.

Harry puzzled over this, brow furrowed. He looked for the other spheres that he had previously seen aboard the vessel, and saw… They looked like robots. Harry was confused. If both machines and people could have these glowing things inside them, then what were they? Were they artificial? Some sort of a decoration? Harry immediately dismissed that idea. The largest sphere that he had seen seemed to be placed at the center of the ship. Harry was certain that it was important. Perhaps it powered the ship? Harry frowned. He did not know anything about this situation, and that put him on edge.

Harry decided to test something. He reached out , and _Stupefy_ -ed the two robots. He then conjured a golem behind the grey-skinned being, and used it to incapacitate the creature. He then walked over, cast an ' _Incarcerous!'_ swiftly followed by an ' _Enervate!'_. The grey-skinned creature woke, struggling weakly. Harry scanned its thoughts, using his passive legilimency to it's full effect.

Apparently, the glowing spheres that Harry had detected were a material called Element Zero, and these robots were early prototypes of something called an YMIR mech. The largest sphere that Harry detected was something called an eezo reactor, a complicated device that used something called the 'Mass Effect'.

Unleashing his not insignificant skill in occlumency, Harry swept through the creature's brain, searching. Finally, after what seemed like hours in the foreign being's mind, Harry found what he was looking for in the somatic and language hubs of the creature's alien mindscape. He quickly assimilated all the languages the being knew, (A surprisingly large number) and any star maps of the local stellar cluster into his mindscape. Harry knew full well that he would have a terrible headache for the next few hours, and anticipated the throbbing pain appearing behind hi temples.

After some more searching through the being's mind, Harry discovered some more useful information. The blue woman was a member of a monogendered alien species called the Asari. They were…remarkably similar to humans, Harry noted.

The grey alien was called a batarian. They had four eyes, and ran their cities and civilizations off of slavery. Harry's eyes narrowed. He did not like the sound of that at all. This interaction took on a whole new meaning. The batarian was trying to get rid of a slave, or to punish a prisoner, Harry theorized. Neither option was one he would accept. Slavery was one of the few things that truly angered him, and he would do his best to abolish it here, as he had back on Earth.

Harry grasped a breathing device from the inside of the ship and brought it to the fallen asari, carefully placing it on her face. She coughed, and took a few deep, gasping breaths. She visibly relaxed, though not by much.

Harry saw that the asari seemed to be injured more heavily than he had previously thought. He wasn't quite sure whether healing spells for humans would work for aliens, but he didn't really have much time to work with. He levitated the batarian, and carefully lifted the weakly struggling asari over his shoulder and brought her into the craft.

Once inside, Harry cast an overpowered " _Episkey!"_ on the asari, which seemed to fix her wounds. What appeared to be radiation damage and some bruising around the eyes due to possible vacuum exposure (Which, surprisingly, Harry was familiar with, having been hired before to take care of a muggle-born dark lord who sequestered himself in a space station.), a broken arm, multiple bullet wounds to the chest and right arm, as well as a length of metal stuck through her thigh were all repaired, as the broken arm straightened out with a loud crack, a few small sand-grain sized bullets levitated out of the chest and arm wounds, and damaged skin knit back together. With a wet * **Shlick** * noise, the jagged hunk of metal slid out of the asari's leg, muscles regenerating behind it. The asari's skin and bone knit back together quickly, with a few loud pops and clicks. The asari released a sigh of relief, and she stilled. Her breathing stabilized to a steady pace.

Frowning, Harry walked over to the captive batarian, and with a whispered _legilimens,_ regained access to the alien's mind. Looking through the rest of the cache of information, Harry discovered a device called an omni-tool, as well as information on the batarian's employers, their purpose, and the layout of the ship.

This was especially useful, considering that this specific batarian, the captain of this ship, was given a frigate-weight ship by the Batarian Hegemony for special assignments. Those 'assignments' including piracy, political assassination, and completely deniable slavery. Harry frowned. The batarian Hegemony was built on the backs of slaves.

Harry furrowed his brow. This batarian was a prime example of the word 'scum'. Quickly stealing the being's omni-tool, he navigated to the 'factory reset' setting, before he reconsidered. With a devious smile, Harry typed in the batarian's passwords, stealing everything he owned.

Browsing through the omni-tool, Harry found and took the passwords for the ship's consoles, the mech controls, all door overrides, etc. He then kicked the batarian captain out of the airlock. With a thump, the slaver fell into the dirt.

Harry looked out of the cargo bay, onto the planet's desolate surface. After looking through the Batarian's omni-tool, Harry now knew that the planet he was standing on was actually a moon by the name of Lethe, orbiting the brown dwarf star, Mnemosyne.

Harry sat down in the cargo bay with his patient, trying to assimilate the language data that he had gotten from the batarian's mind. His new pounding headache was not helping matters.

Harry had already surmised that anything with an 'eezo core' could be slightly affected by magic. So, looking around for the largest eezo core that he had detected, Harry stood up and walked through the door from the cargo bay into engineering.

He began to hear some voices, and almost kicked himself when he realized that there must be more crew taking care of the ship than the one batarian outside. Harry quickly pulled on Death's Cloak, _silencio_ -ed his shoes, cast a quick ' _Homonium Revelio'_ , and proceeded to stun and examine the minds of each and every batarian on the ship. Every single one was a slaver.

On Earth, every one of these aliens would have received a life sentence in a very high security prison for human trafficking. So Harry decided to dispense his own brand of justice.

Carefully, he erased every single memory not pertinent to the maintenance of a ship from the batarian crew, tossed the ground crew out the airlock, and then laid some subtle, and some not-so-subtle compulsion charms to make the rest of the crew obey him.

It seemed only fitting that a batarian crew of slavers should serve their sentence as slaves, even unknowingly. And, this way, Harry had a crew. It was convenient, but it did make Harry slightly uneasy. Seeking to relieve himself of his misgivings, Harry transfigured numerous full-face helmets, to prevent identification of the criminals, and to prevent himself from constant reminders that his ship was being crewed by former slavers.

After taking care of the slavers, Harry brought the healed, now sleeping asari to the Medical Bay, and placed some alert wards around her to alert him when she woke up. He had no idea who she was, or why she was so badly injured.

Using legilimency on an unconscious person was highly ineffective, so Harry resigned himself to waiting for the assari to wake. He could justify mental invasion for those beings who profited off of the pain of others, but not innocents, like his patient. She had been the one whose life had been at risk, and Harry had always taken issue with the strong picking on the weak.

The surrounding machines in the medical bay all displayed readings that suggested the patient was stable, only sleeping, so Harry relaxed. Slowly, his thoughts began to turn to the asari's injuries. How had she gotten those? She had not been wearing an airtight suit, meaning she couldn't have been on an EVA gone wrong.

However, she had been exposed to the void, but there was no easy explanation for vacuum exposure, explosive damage, a jagged metal spike stuck in her leg, what had appeared to be massive bruising, concussion, multiple bullet wounds, and a broken arm. Harry was intrigued. He would have to get her story when she woke.

He had been to the first cargo bay, and knew that there were no slaves there. However, he received a nasty surprise when he walked into the second cargo bay, on the other side of the ship. There were around forty slaves chained to anything that could support a set of manacles: walls, furniture, and light fixtures. As he entered, many of the slaves shank back: based off of the batarian's memories, Harry knew that humanity was unheard-of, here. His presence was scaring the slaves.

They had been abducted, and seemingly brought to some new alien, a member of a species they had never before seen. Terrified whispers and tears soon spread through the room. Harry quickly cast a light sleeping spell, that would get stronger over time. Eventually, even the most worried and distraught among the prisoners fell asleep, with a yawn.

Harry carefully crept into their midst, and began the process of breaking their chains and healing their wounds. He then levitated them out of the cargo bay, and gave them rooms, healing, food, and water. They would wake over the course of the next few hours, to find themselves in comfortable rooms with food and facilities. They would then be dropped off at the nearest friendly port, which was something called the Citadel.

That could be a problem, as, unfortunately, this vessel was easily recognizable. It had been used in a highly publicised slave raid on a salarian planet, during which the ship had been caught on video, according to the captain's memories. Thankfully, the colonists never picked up the ship's FTL signature, or this ship would be registered as a pirate vessel, and subject to search and seizure by any council fleet.

Even the Batarian Hegemony had not recorded the ship's signature, so that they could have an ironclad alibi. Harry knew that he would have to change a lot of the ship to render it unrecognizable to anyone. This led Harry to begin a time-consuming process of changing the ship's layout. He used lots of transfiguration to completely remodel the ship, changing its inner layout to match his needs. Miniscule captain's quarters, paired with Harry's personal enlarged wizard's tent, small crew quarters, massive weapon bays, an open space along the spine of the ship for a mass driver, a small armory, a large cargo bay with undetectable expansion charms, and hidden torpedo bays for added firepower.

Afterwards, in a fit of fancy, Harry paneled the walls with transfigured oak and gold leaf, as the dense metal walls could be transfigured into more of a less dense material. Laying down in his wizarding tent, exhausted, Harry picked up his new (stolen) omni-tool, and after some mucking around on the extranet, managed to changed the registration, name, and owner of his new spaceship.

An hour later, it was registered under the name 'Nyx.' As the Greek goddess of the night, and one of the first few beings to exist in the greek pantheon, Harry thought it was fitting. It was also privately owned by Mortis Solutions, a newly registered (and Harry-owned) mercenary group and trade interest. It was the same name that Harry had used to bill his services to the major governments of Earth.

Later, Harry went on a walk outside the ship. He repainted the outside of the ship to bear the name 'Nyx', and transfigured the exterior of the ship in order for it to be impossible to recognize as it's former silhouette. He wound up transfiguring it to have smoother edges, to reduce the blocky profile that the ship presented. After modifying the silhouette of the ship, and increasing the bulkhead and armor thickness, Harry added some weak disillusionment spells to obscure the ship's edges and make it stand out less in the emptiness of space.

Once he completed his remodeling, Harry set a course for the Citadel. He was relieved that his near-supernatural aptitude for flight extended beyond merely brooms, and into the territory of spacecraft.

While in transit, Harry spent the remainder of his time trying to calculate arithmancy equations for a magic-powered FTL drive. He already had plans to create and install a magic-powered sublight drive, which he called the Apparation Drive. As it would be magic-powered, rather than using heat-emitting thrusters, it would be extremely useful for stealth. It would be undetectable, at least to conventional scanners.

Harry had already used protection runes on the hull plating, and some speed runes for the engines, a few power runes for the Eezo core, and a few feather-light spells on the inside of the bulkheads. In addition, some of the designs from the stolen cache of Reaper knowledge were coming in handy. Harry had plans to add a main cannon to the Nyx.

With a kilometer-long Magneto-hydrodynamic mass driver hidden in a 150-meter ship, The Nyx would be able to vastly outcompete any Council ship, even dreadnaught-class vessels. Unfortunately, almost all these enhancements were impossible until Harry could get his hands on some materials. He could permanently transfigure the material to fit his needs, but permanently conjuring so much metal was far beyond him.

Unfortunately, engorgement and space-expansion charms would cripple the reactor, as a larger reactor would require exponentially larger capacitors and cooling banks. And while cooling runes could take care of most heat issues, more powerful capacitors required advanced batteries that were more in place on a cruiser or a smaller dreadnaught.

During the journey to the Citadel, Harry put his enchantment skills to good work, and hammered out an artifact that conjured antiproton particles and Helium-3 as motive power for the craft. Brought into existence for just long enough to annihilate and then dispel back to the nonexistence it had been conjured from, the ship's antiproton drive would allow unparalleled maneuverability in conjunction with heavy-duty cooling runes and heatsinks. Unfortunately, the duration of the conjured particles's existence was somewhat random, meaning that heat and other forms of radiation did blast from the stern of the ship, like every other vessel in operation. However, the setup still allowed the vehicle to fly indefinitely, without having to stop for fuel. Perfect stealth was temporarily unattainable, as most detection systems ran partly off of thermal imaging. Until Harry could muffle the ship's thermal output, with magic or otherwise, he'd still show up as a blip on most scanners. A small blip, but a blip nonetheless. Also, as the lion's share of shipboard scanning systems detected eezo field emanations, the wizard would need to spruce up the shielding around the ship's core. It would be difficult and time-consuming, but damn, would it be worth it.

A larger eezo core could lead to some additions to the ship that would ordinarily be impossible. That might include a full orbital bombardment module, or GUARDIAN lasers with enough power to function as weak directed energy anti-ship weapons, rather than mere point defense anti-fighter guns.

Harry had used a massive undetectable expansion charm on the central deck, adding a research level, and another on the cargo bay, to create a massive space for cargo, and berths for both a gunship and a shuttle, neither of which Harry currently had. Truly, most of Harry's planned enhancements were not currently possible due to lack of resources, but the plans were made, designs readied, and hardpoints modified.

Halfway to the Citadel, Harry's alarm wards in the medical bay went off. He rushed to the medical bay, dropping his calculations with a thump. When he walked through the door, he saw the asari sitting up on the bed, facing away from him. He conjured a chair, and sat down with a muffled thump.

The asari's head whipped around to face him so quickly that Harry could swear that he had felt a rush of air. Harry spoke, carefully, and with humor.

"I just treated all your injuries. If at all possible, I'd rather not have to treat you for whiplash."

The asari goggled. Then blinked, then blinked again, and cautiously questioned,

"What are you?"

To which Harry responded,

"I'm Harry Potter. I-" before being interrupted by the asari, who imperiously amended her earlier statement,

" Not WHO are you. WHAT are you?"

Harry furrowed his brow. She was asking about his species. That was further confirmation that humanity did not exist here, or this asari didn't know about it if it did. Even a few searches of the extranet had revealed nothing.

"I- well, I'm a human, I suppose. " Harry eventually said in answer.

"And how did I get here?" The asari responded, curious.

" Well, I … found… you, in the middle of getting yourself kicked off of a batarian ship and killed by slavers. You were heavily injured,"Harry explained, listing her injuries.

"How long has it been, since you found me?" The asari asked, to which Harry replied,

"Almost half a week. Your injuries were… severe."

He watched the asari work her jaw, trying to find the words for a question. Suddenly, she asked,

"Why are you doing this? Why help me?"

Harry floundered.

"What do you mean,' why are you doing this?' it's the right thing to do!" He said, indignantly.

To which the asari replied grimly,

"You're an optimistic one, then. Where are we headed?" Harry replied,

" This ship is currently dropping off newly freed slaves at the Citadel. Why? Did you have a specific destination in mind?"

The asari mumbled something, which even Harry's sensitive hearing missed.

"Come again? I didn't quite catch that."

The asari spoke, just barely loud enough for him to hear, saying

" Take me to Omega, please."

"Why Omega?" Harry asked, somewhat shocked. He had seen some things written about Omega, and they didn't paint a pretty picture. Omega was a lawless, desolate place.

"Why do you want to go there?" Harry asked again, genuinely curious.

Replied the asari, "Well, I suppose I've got to find safety again, and my current alias has to disappear. Omega seems to be the best place to do that."

This piqued Harry's interest.

"What do you mean, your current alias needs to disappear?" He asked the asari, who replied,

"I'm supposed to have died. I should have died. Now, I'm not dead, and I get to disappear forever, or start all over again with a new name and occupation. Why are you interested?"

Harry nodded. He had considered doing something similar after his third death, when ascending Dark Lords were forced to gang up, and create a temporary truce in order to kill Harry.

"Once we hit the Citadel, I'll set a course to Omega."

Looking out the door to the observation deck, the asari eventually mumbled a "Thanks."

Harry stood, about to leave, when he asked,

" I'm sorry, but I don't believe I caught your name. I'm Harry. Who are you?"

To which the asari replied absently, "I'm Aria. My alias was Aleena. I was a highly successful mercenary. I'll have to retire that alias now."

Harry knew that he wouldn't get anything else out of her, so he settled with a sincere "Thanks. if you ever need more help, I'll try to assist however I can."

The asari just mumbled something that sounded like, "You poor naive bastard," and laid back down on the infirmary bed.

Harry's jaw had dropped as he emerged from the Widow relay. The Reaper whose memories Harry had stolen had vague, unclear memories of the Citadel. Harry definitely preferred this to to the stolen memories.

After requesting a berth and a place to drop off the liberated slaves in flawed but improving asari, Citadel traffic control quickly directed Harry to C-sec dock S-2.

When he landed, Harry saw a firefight going on between some C-Sec officers and a squadron of asari and salarian mercenaries. According to the chatter on the C-Sec radio channels, a mercenary group had gotten wind of the slave liberation and decided to steal the former slaves for their own profit.

Harry scowled. Setting the ship to hover where it was, around fifty feet off of the ground, Harry grabbed the biggest shotgun he could find, and jumped out the airlock. Carefully, he flew behind the group of mercs. Still unaware of him, the mercenaries kept firing at the C-SEC officers, hitting one in the side of the head.

Only then did Harry recognize the shotgun that he had picked up: according to the batarian's memories, it was a Krogan ultra-heavy shotgun. And while normally, the recoil of the gun would have shattered a human's shoulder bones, Harry had the advantage of Re'em Blood Elixir. Thanks to that, Harry would be fine; better than fine, actually. He took a look at the shotgun, then at the mercenaries, and smiled. Harry walked up behind the asari who seemed to be giving the orders, put the massive shotgun to the back of her head, and pulled the trigger.

Brains and blue blood exploded in a fountain of gore across most of the mercenary team. All of them instantly turned around. Two of them retched. One fainted. Two more dropped their guns in surrender.

The other five, however, raised their guns, firing wildly. Seconds later, two of the mercenaries were painted across the wall by the immense power of the Krogan weapon, one merc's forehead had been caved in with a blow from the butt of the shotgun, and one of the final two was kicked out of the docking bay and into the vacuum of space without an airtight suit. The last trembling mercenary was disarmed and knocked out. The fight was over barely a minute after Harry had joined the fray.

Harry waved to Aria, who was peering out of his ship's airlock with a look of surprise. Then he jogged over to the three C-Sec officers, and assisted in stabilizing the officer who had been shot with a powerful " _Episkey!"_. Then he pulled out a piece of paper with a strong confundus charm to look like the license for the shotgun to show to the nervous C-Sec group. With the incident now on more familiar topics for the officers, (namely paperwork) they took charge quickly.

Harry arranged for the liberated slaves to be rehabilitated, and treated by the best psychiatrists in C-Sec employment, then used a notice-me-not spell to sort out the whole 'previously unknown non-council race' business. After a massive list of questions, Harry was free to go. Before he could leave, the turian he had saved rushed up to him, a frustrated medic following him.

" Excuse me? Uh, mister- ah, Harry? I'm Sentinus Vakarian. I'd like to thank you for saving my life. The doctors have no clue how you did it, but- listen, next time you come to the Citadel, I'd like to buy you a drink and swap stories. I've never seen any alien like you, so I'm sure you'll have some tales to tell."

Harry was pleasantly surprised. Not many beings could walk through a notice-me-not spell like the one he had placed upon himself for the duration of his trip to the Citadel.

"I'm in a bit of a hurry right now, but I'll call you up if I'm ever in the area again. It was nice meeting you, Sentinus. I hope to see you again soon."

And with that, Harry flew up fifty feet from the landing platform into the airlock of his ship, walked past a stunned Aria just inside the airlock, landed, and unloaded the liberated slaves. He then looked at a few star maps, and charted a course to Omega.

While en route, Harry ran some tests on a hunk of Element Zero using an arithmancy analysis spell that would take apart every single aspect of an item, and put it into writing and formulae. The mentions of biotics had interested him, and Harry was positive that eezo was some strange form of magic. And Harry knew that all magic could be manipulated. In fact, Harry was convinced that biotics were a result of some form of magical resonance, which meant that he could replicate it. It seemed likely that some sort of ritual would do the trick best, with hunks of Eezo around the edges, and the target in the center. He lapsed into deep thought.

By the time Harry's omni-tool alarm went off, signaling that the ship was approaching Omega, Harry had made some serious progress. He felt almost ready to try the ritual himself. From some of the descriptions of biotic powers that Harry had found on the extranet, Harry theorized that much of the effect of biotics were caused by exerting willpower, and enhanced with practice. Lots, and lots, of practice. Even discounting his Occlumency, Harry was a very strong-willed (Stubborn) person, so he theorized that he'd be able to control biotics fairly easily. Obviously, he was certain that wouldn't be the case; His intimate relationship with Murphy's Law made that a certainty.

After cleaning up, disposing of test subjects, and pulling his head out of an arithmancy reference book, Harry went to his quarters. He had a message to send.

He activated his communications beacon, placing some of the Reaper's most important memories within, along with a message to Daphne. Included were some of the more terrible effects of the tech, like how Reaper indoctrination functions: Runes powered off of mass sacrifice. The message also included some basic FTL tech, ship-to ship weaponry tech, encryption, and Astrogation data, relay locations, homeworld locations, and other useful information. In addition, Harry sent a brief video message, as he had needed to to send something about his well being and his suspicions to his love interest.

" _Hey Daphne._

 _If you couldn't already tell, it's me, Harry. This was a bad idea. I think I'm in an alternate reality. At the very least, because there is no humanity here. At least, I can't find any evidence of us. I did leave you the Sorcerer's stone. I expect you to use it, too. If there is any possibility at all, I want to see you again._

 _Now to the facts. There is an extinction event coming up in a few decades that I need to stop. You know how it is with me. Always taking the hopeless cases because I can't control my saving-people-thing. It's even worse this time. I don't really know how I can stop this. Magic can only do so much, you know? I included some memories; they encompass most of what I've learned here. It's- well, it's not pretty._

 _The first memory shows how I slept, or was unconscious, for the better part of thirty-six million years. Then, the second shows that wherever I am, there is a race of evil robot overlords, bent on destruction on a galactic scale. I also included some data that you'll need to assimilate. It's the only way to safely learn it._

 _It's a large collection of new Runes, and a large amount of data on Faster-than Light travel, defense, weaponry, encryption, and biotics. Yeah, I didn't know what that last one was at first, but you'll figure it out. I think I've got a rune cluster-slash-ritual that can make somebody a biotic. I'm on the small lab-rat analogue testing stage, and it seems to be working well, as I managed to create a small varren with biotics strong enough to crush a bus. Also, I didn't include a lot of the more powerful weaponry. I sent some slightly outdated designs. I really don't want to see humans fighting humans with WMDs again. Let us discover the truly scary weaponry on our own, right?_

 _Unfortunately, I need to send this message now. The connection through the veil is fraying. In another month, even, I don't know whether this communication method would still work._

 _If this is another universe, as I suspect, you may be safe. If it's not, then you should have roughly one hundred and eighty years before the death robots come for you. At the very least, all that data will allow you to modify markets, and hold a monopoly on FTL tech, weapons tech, and so much more. You can finally become the richest woman in the world, like you always wanted._

 _Also, well, it's sort of cliche, but if I don't show up in a few centuries, I want you to move on. I do hope we'll meet again, in this reality or the next, but I don't think we'll be seeing much of each other for a long time._

 _Even so, I'm gone. I'm either so far into the future that Humanity has died out or evolved into something else, or I'm so far into the past that humanity hasn't evolved from rodents yet. Or perhaps, by some divine coincidence, I'm merely in a part of the galaxy where humanity simply hasn't been discovered yet. God, I hope that's it. No matter what, I'll miss you._

 _I'm sorry."_

Harry stared at the communicator for an indeterminate amount of time, head bowed, until finally, he let out a sigh, shut it off, sent the message, and walked away.


	2. Strange Happenings

Hours later, Harry was busy creating his personal CIC. He had resolved that he would fully automate his ship: he was not pleased with his current crew of obliviated slavers.

With the goal of automation in mind, Harry was busy combining a pilot's station, gunner's station, engineering panel, missile and torpedo launch controls, and assorted other bits and bobs. He was using a modified alert ward scheme to give him what amounted to omniscience in the cockpit. If something was showing on any of the panels, Harry knew what it meant, and was doing something about it.

However, at times the constant button-pressing and minutiae could make Harry look as if he was merely pushing buttons rapidly, or playing some sort of strange incomprehensible instrument.

Harry also had plans to modify a familiar ritual to essentially make the ship his familiar. That would give it limited sentience, and a psychic link with him. The Nyx would them be able to assess and modify situations independent of Harry, and react to them. It would be fully self-sustaining: able to repair itself and defend itself. Through the psychic link, Harry would also be able to direct the ship from any distance, even from across the galaxy.

Harry guided the ship carefully into the docking bay that Aria had pointed out to him. He was slightly wary, as the thoughts that he had detected coming from her were getting more agitated, craftier. And, Harry was going into a possible ambush. He had no idea how the bay was arranged, or what was docked inside.

As he landed the ship in the magnetic clamps, the asari patient, Aria, dropped her facade, and said coldly,

"This will be a lot easier if you come quietly. I need you to tell me what you know." she stated, with a heavy sidearm pointed at Harry's back.

Harry decided to humor the asari, for now. He locked down the ship, and bound the system start command to a powerful encryption that he had created to hide his research data. Slowly, Harry stood up, with his hands clearly visible.

He then prodded the asari's mind hard enough to pull some information out of her head, focusing on her full name, and current goal. He was willing to bend his rules on legilimency for this. She was pointing a gun at him, after all.

The asari, clearly having felt the mental poke, gasped loudly, and pointed her pistol at Harry's head.

With a smug, friendly tone, Harry drawled,

"Well, well, well. What would you, Aria T'Loak, Leader of Omega, want from me?" Harry walked towards the airlock.

"What the _hell_ was that?" Aria stated, finger wavering on the trigger.

"Magic." Harry replied bitingly.

As he stepped up to the door, the airlock slid open with a hiss. It did not enact any decontamination procedures; Harry immediately knew something was wrong. He walked out into the exposed bridge. However, there was a foot poking out from the top of a crate, just a few feet from the airlock. Harry walked over to the crate, and lifted the lid. There was a small pile of bodies in heavy combat armor lying limp in the crate.

Suddenly, Harry noticed a flash of light, as something reflected light at him. Harry instantly threw up a shield and dived back into his ship, knocking Aria away from the airlock.

Sniper fire from multiple sources cracked loudly against the Nyx's armor, pinging and ricocheting against Harry's ' _Protego'_ spell, and passing through the steel crate with a loud 'Ding!'. Harry sighed, now lying on top of the asari, and calmly stated,

"Whatever team you had waiting for me is either dead or unconscious in the crate over there, we're pinned in my ship, and you're pointing a gun at me. Alright. Stay in here."

"Screw that!" The asari spat. "There's at least four snipers out there. What could you possibly do?"

Harry didn't dignify that with an answer. Instead, he stood up, and turned back to the door. With a Snape-worthy billow, Harry donned Death's cloak, and disappeared. Aria watched, open-mouthed. The airlock door opened again. A shot bounced off of the floor. A few seconds later, the airlock door closed.

…..

Aria leaned against the airlock door. Her original plan was to capture the alien, whose name was apparently Harry- and figure out what he knew, and where he had gotten his ship. It was a brain-defying tangle of questions that she needed to unravel.

Aria was not a ship architect, but something was seriously wrong here. Some rooms would have to be inside others: The medbay, a door away from the armory, extended into where the armory should have been- yet the armory was perfectly normal. Somehow, this ship was bigger on the inside. And the crew- Something was strange about them. They didn't speak, or joke, or anything that normal crews did. They just stood, barely moving, at their stations. The halls of the ship were paneled in some sort of wood, with elegant gold inlay- Aria had never seen anything like it. She had even shot a pistol into the wall, and somehow, an hour later, the wood had repaired itself.

This alien knew far more than he was telling, and he himself could do things that were completely impossible. It wasn't just his ship that raised questions; he did, as well! She had to find out what he knew.

Most importantly, she had to know how Harry was able to go completely invisible, without any visual glitches, no static, no refraction, no blur, nothing. Even the most advanced research facilities were still plagued by difficulties during testing. The cloaking devices they were prototyping were not nearly ready for military use. They either distorted the air in an extremely noticeable fashion, or relied on a reflective layer on a suit of armor which would be extremely impractical to repair or care for.

Early estimates had even shown personal cloaking to be "Prohibitively Expensive." And that was according to the Matriarchs who had approved the construction of the 'Destiny Ascension,' the largest ship in Council Space. It was also known, to the more experienced matriarchs, as the largest waste of funds in the last millennia.

Aria knew that she would be rich enough to _buy_ the Destiny Ascension if she could patent and mass-produce Harry's invisibility device. They would be invaluable.

However, all of Aria's plans to coerce Harry's secrets from him had gone up in smoke, as it seemed that he had just committed suicide by firing squad. Aria huffed. At least she had his ship. Maybe she could have it examined-

The airlock door opened. Aria grabbed for her gun, frantic. How had an enemy gotten across the whole bridge so quickly? She looked up- only to see a surprised Harry, holding four sniper rifles in his arms, and a few pistols hooked to his belt.

"What- You _just_ left! Not five minutes passed! What did you- How did you _do_ that?" Aria sputtered. Then her eyes widened, as she realized her situation.

She had just tried and failed to backstab somebody, and now she was at his mercy. What would she do? What _could_ she do? He knew who she was, and her team of specialists was out for the count. Another thought struck her. How had her best team been taken out of commission? She knew of only one person who could organize that.

The Shadow Broker. He must have been the one to target her ship, leaving her in the temporary care of the batarian slavers. Now it seemed that he had tried to take her out at her home, on her own station: Omega. That would not stand.

Carefully, Aria spoke up. "This must have been the Shadow Broker's next attempt."

Seeing that Harry wasn't moving to attack her, she continued, "He was behind the attack that led to my presence on that horrible batarian slaver ship. He's usually involved in most of the more illegal stuff in the cosmos. Slavery, drug running, assassination, corruption, and bribery are all his methods of success."

A tense silence filled the air. Finally, after a few seconds, Harry spoke up.

"If we had the slave ship that I found you on, would we be able to figure out where the Shadow Broker's base is?" Harry questioned. Aria merely chuckled.

"He would have merely taken me to a detention facility of some sort, then sent a different ship to pick me up from there, If I wasn't killed on the spot," Aria mused.

Harry scowled. " You're right. Anyone with more than half a brain cell would never have trusted those slavers." He thought for a moment, then smiled.

"I should be able to find him without too much trouble." Harry knew Aria wanted to get off of his ship, and as far away from him as possible, so he offered her a deal. He reiterated his previous sentence:

"I'll try and take out the Shadow Broker. If I succeed, you stay away from me, and I'll stay away from you. Alright?"

Aria nodded. He had every reason to want her dead: She had pulled a gun on him, betraying his hospitality, and tried to capture him. It was almost as if… Harry didn't consider her a threat?

Aria wasn't sure how to feel about that. For now, she would prefer not to offend the alien.

"Harry, If there's anything you need, feel free to come to Omega to get it. If you succeed with this, Omega will be safer than the Citadel for you. I apologize for my attempt to capture you, as you did save my life- twice. Thank you for not killing me- and good luck." Aria then briskly walked out the airlock. Harry stopped her halfway, holding out a small object.

"Ms. T'loak? Here is something you may be grateful to have. It's called a sneakoscope. It detects untrustworthy actions. It may go crazy on Omega, though." Aria took the device, nodded, and walked out the airlock door.

She saw her strike team, starting to groggily come awake. One of them groaned, and slowly stood up. Aria looked at them, and stated coldly, "The captain and I have reached an agreement. Your 'performance' will be rewarded accordingly." then calmly walked away from the impossible ship with the impossible captain.

Harry went over his options. His current objective was to find the Shadow Broker. He could try and intercept agents sending reports back to the broker, but Harry wasn't optimistic about that yielding results. He could ask intelligence agencies, but he wasn't very hopeful about that, either. If an intelligence organization had discovered the Broker's location, they would have acted upon the information immediately.

Harry sighed. He had one more option.

Divining.

Harry had always hated divination. However, this was likely the most reliable method of locating the broker. It would take at least a week, but it would work. Hopefully.

First, Harry pulled a crystal ball from his briefcase. He placed it on a table, and stared into it. A few minutes later, Harry was pleasantly surprised to see a few images in the murky depths of the ball.

A sign painted onto the wall read, 'Docking Bay 3.' A window looked out onto a cloudy sunset with a few thunderclouds in the distance. The image faded away a few seconds later and try as he might, Harry could not call it up again.

Harry flipped through a divination guide he had purchased in his travels There were a few locating rituals and spells, but none able to work based on the miniscule amount of information he had. At least, none until Harry reached a page titled 'Scrying'.

Incredulous, Harry began preparing the spell. If it worked half as well as the author of his book believed, then it would be a wonderfully useful addition to Harry's arsenal of tools.  
After conjuring a silver basin, and filling it with water, Harry waved has hand across the surface. He called up a map of the galaxy on his omni-tool, and divided both the galaxy and the basin into four parts. A glowing silver line appeared over the basin, then another faded into existence, quartering the water in the basin.

Carefully, Harry divided the galaxy map into quadrants, one for each quadrant of the basin. He then linked those quadrants to each corresponding quarter of the basin. With a brief chant, Harry waved his hand above the basin. One quadrant lit up, glowing white.

Harry sighed. He hadn't gotten a true scale of the galaxy yet. Conceptually, he knew it was huge, but this was insane. The galaxy map accurately showing more than one hundred billion stars only brought the concept home. Harry anticipated extremely slow progress.

….

 **One Week Later**

..…

Harry had finally completed the biotics ritual. He stood at the side of a silver heptagram, with dangerously large amounts of eezo on each point, and the elder wand in the center. Harry's arithmancy and experience had shown that the Elder Wand didn't only give him power: A friendly voice whispered ancient incantations in his ears when he needed them most, or a bit of accidental magic in desperate situations, or a foreboding feeling when things were about to go wrong.

When Harry had completed his research on the biotic ritual, the friendly voice had whispered, " _Put me in the center..."_ , and with no real reason not to, Harry ran the runes through a couple reference sheets, and figured that the power boost of the elder wand would extend to his biotics if he did the ritual that way.

With a small prick of Harry's finger, and a few muffled words, the ritual had begun. Blue-purple energies suffused the air, and the elder wand changed slightly. Harry's veins pulsed seven times, and strange voices whispered in eldritch languages. And then, the ritual was over, and the heptagram disappeared.

Ecstatic, Harry tried to call on his new biotics. A wildly fluctuating blue-grey field formed around him, changing gravity in rapidly spiking patterns. Harry was alternating nearly floating and nearly being crushed by the forces of gravity exerted around him. Panicked, he shut off his biotics, and sat down. Harry sighed. This was going to be more difficult than he had anticipated.

…..

 **Four Days Later**

…

Harry dropped out of FTL around the Mass Relay in the Sowilo system. His scrying had detected that the Broker was aboard some sort of ship in the northern hemisphere of the planet. However, Hagalaz's unique weather conditions would make visually discovering the Broker difficult.

Some advanced methods of divination (staring at a crystal ball in desperation) had led to a few brief images of a floating ship, but nothing that would indicate its exact location.

The Nyx would be detected, and it was likely already raising alarms. Unwilling to provoke the Broker into fleeing, Harry jumped out the airlock with full-body bubble-head, flame-freezing, and disillusionment charms. He then used his biotics for the one of the simplest things possible: he lowered his own mass. He then used his magic to fly, taking advantage of his recently lowered mass. He reached the upper atmosphere of the planet Hagalaz an hour later.

Harry commenced re-entry, and stopped his fall somewhere in the lower atmosphere. Only during his descent through the atmosphere did Harry notice the massive storms on the planet. They were truly a sight to behold. Thunderheads extended almost a mile into the sky. There was a constant display of vast bolts of lightning streaking through the clouds, and a pervasive booming rumble of thunder. Harry was left breathless with wonder.

As soon as he reached the largest thunderhead, Harry transformed. His thestral animagus was an incredible creature. It was massive for its species, standing twenty feet high at the shoulder. As Harry flew, he reveled in the destructive power being unleashed in the clouds.

Harry thought over his options. He had already figured that the Broker's ship would be located in the heart of the storm band that covered the night-day meridian of the planet. However, he needed to be able to find the broker before he could kill him. A ' _Point Me'_ charm would only work when the target of the spell was within twenty-five miles of the caster, and scrying wouldn't be able to get precise enough to find the ship in all of the storms.

Suddenly, a thought struck Harry. He could use one of the skills instinctive to the thestral; the ability to find places. Any thestral, if it so deigned, could find any specific location, as long as it had some sort of idea of what the area looked like. That was certainly a stroke of luck!

Harry recalled the image he had seen in the crystal ball, and immediately felt a pull towards a specific direction. As he flew, the storm got steadily worse. Apparently the Broker's ship was located at the heart of the storm.

Harry kept flying, until he reached a ship of some sort that seemed to be powered via the storm. He landed delicately by an observation window, reverted to his human form, and apparated inside.

Quietly, Harry sequestered himself in Death's Cloak. With muttered silencing and scent-removal charms, he became undetectable. He then skulked around the ship's corridors for an hour or two, slowly making his way to the bridge.

As he approached a large set of doors, they opened, and Harry heard very deep, and supremely confident voice say,

"Hello. How nice of you to drop in. Now, I must insist that you answer a few questions of mine. This one foremost among them."

The voice changed, from a friendly, almost kind tone, to a furious burning whisper.

" _How… did... you... find… me?"_

Harry turned, and saw one of the ugliest creatures he had ever seen. He looked the creature, and saw it's multiple eyes, gaping maw, and slavering teeth.

" _Stupefy!"_ Harry called. The bolt of red light hit the creature in the chest. The being stood, and Harry couldn't help but compare it to the troll from his first year. He would certainly not be shoving his wand up this thing's nose, thank you very much. Harry waited for it to collapse from the stunning spell, but nothing happened. The Broker stumbled into a fast jog towards him.

Harry cast again, this time with a much stronger spell.

" _Somnus!"_ Harry waved his wand. An almost palpable air of exhaustion filled the air, yet the creature remained standing, and kept running.

The creature kept running towards Harry, and lowered its shoulder as if it wanted to smash him against the wall. With a sudden realization of the danger he was in, Harry rolled to the side, as the Broker swept by him. However, before crashing into the wall, the creature managed to catch Harry with a strong unarmed blow. The force of the hit turned Harry's roll into a clumsy but successful attempt to rebalance himself.

Leaning against a console, and with a cocky grin, Harry calmly said a single word, as if announcing the weather.

" _Legilimens!"_

Centuries of information poured into his head. The creature was a Yahg. It was a test subject and operative of the former Shadow Broker, until it had taken over the brokerage by killing and impersonating the previous Broker. While searching through its mind, Harry learned of vast secrets, from blackmail, to skeletons left in closets, to conspiracies reaching far into the upper echelons of society. Reaper artifacts in the temple of Palaven. A turian bomb on Tuchanka. A prothean beacon in the statue of Athame on Thessia. Salarians and batarians researching a 'dead' Reaper.

Harry also noticed something troubling. The Broker and the Reapers had come to an understanding a few years back. The Yahg would provide information and perform favors for the Reapers, and in exchange they would not bombard the Yahg's home into an ice age. However, the Yahg himself had just recently double-crossed the Reapers. He had deliberately sabotaged their relationship to the point where the Reaper, Nazara, actually carried out her threat, and hit the Yahg homeworld with a 'Rogue Asteroid' almost the size of Pluto. Unfortunately, Parnack, the Yahg homeworld, was now no longer inhabited by anything larger than small multicellular life. Anything larger had been wiped out, either by the shockwave, or the cold.

Harry gathered as much information as he could, and stored it away, deep within his mindscape. He would examine that in more detail later.

Carefully, he exited the being's mindscape, only to see the massive Yahg charging at him.

It plowed him into a wall, heavily denting the steel. Harry gasped, as all the air was pushed out of his lungs. He saw stars at the edges of his vision. As he watched, the creature pulled out a wicked-looking blade of some sort. With a burst of energy, Harry knocked the Yahg away from him, and pulled the sword of Godric Gryffindor off of a sheath on his belt. The two squared off, with the massive Yahg towering over the puny human.

The yahg charged again, swinging the massive blade with impressive skill. Harry jumped over the blade, evading what would have been a fatal strike, and stepped back. The two circled, and circled, until Harry conjured a dagger behind the creature and cast a summoning charm at it. The dagger lifted into the air, and buried itself deep in the Yahg's back. The creature roared in fury, and spun around.

Harry simply stepped up, poked the Yahg with the sword, and stepped back. The poisonous venom of the basilisk dripped from the Yahg's wound, slowly corroding vital organs. The Yahg turned, looked at Harry, eyes blinking, then put a hand to it's wound. It touched some of the poison, and brought one hand up to an olfactory gland of some sort. The Yahg's eyes widened. It charged at Harry, swinging with reckless abandon.

Harry stumbled. He was disoriented. Very few beings in existence could physically punch as hard as the Yahg. He was quickly put even further on the defensive, as the broker whipped out a heavy pistol and unloading at him. Harry quickly put up a shield. Bullets ricocheted against the wall, and his ' _Protego'_ charm. The Yahg charged again once the pistol's clip ran dry, letting out a powerful roar.

The Broker knew that its life was over, and it wanted to make sure that its own was not the only corpse left in the room. It swung viciously and quickly with its long blade, until finally, with a burst of energy, its massive blade hit Harry in the chest, slicing a jagged hole through his chest cavity, passing through both lungs, and the left side of his rib cage. Harry coughed faintly, blood pumping out onto the floor through ruptured arteries. The Yahg's legs gave out, and it let out a strangled, wet, coughing laugh. Then, it reached for its blade, positioned it carefully up above its chest, and calmly stabbed itself in the heart. The light in its eyes faded, and it slowly died. Both beings coughed up blood.

Harry was pissed. He knew that he would simply wake up perfectly healthy. Harry knew the Deathly Hallows prevented his death. However, that didn't prevent him from feeling pain. Healing a wound that nearly halved his chest would not be comfortable in the least.

At least the Yahg hadn't hit his heart, Harry mused. That would have been a truly painful death. As his vision started to go black around him, Harry cast an " _Episkey!"_ with all his remaining energy, and blacked out. Even as he fell into unconsciousness, his bones began to grow, organs began to repair themselves, and his skin knit back together.

Thirty minutes later, Harry woke up in a pool of his own blood. He cast a quick ' _Scourgify!'_ and checked his omni-tool. He stood, and walked to the console, in the center of the table. The device monitored the status of hundreds of agents, on hundreds of planets. Harry knew what they were all doing, thanks to his mental information download, and immediately sent them to work. He set a program to keep the ship running indefinitely, and added some defense and unplottable wards. Harry then took the Broker's entire central console, and moved it out to the Nyx, after flying back out and bringing his ship into one of the docking bays.

Harry sat down, cracked his knuckles, and got to work making the galaxy a better place. Some of his agents started a cure for the genophage. Some began researching technologies banned by the Council, like antimatter weaponry and reactors, synthetic intelligences, and alternate methods of faster-than-light travel. Another group began production of a scaled-down Mass Relay. Others researched terraforming technology, and still other operatives stepped up the process of infiltrating advanced weaponry labs and research facilities.

Harry also started a galaxy-wide plan to increase military strength, procure better funding for military research, and eventually, repeal the treaty of Farixen. Then Harry set a course for Omega.

….

Aria T'loak was worried. The Shadow Broker had sent another assassination attempt her way, and it had very nearly succeeded. Almost one quarter of her entire personal security team had been taken out by a bomb on one of her aircars, and another quarter had taken the surprisingly successful hanar assassin down with them. Aria walked to her quarters thoughtfully. If Harry actually succeeded in his mission to kill the Shadow Broker, she would be in his debt. The only thing she could currently do was to wait and see whether or not Harry could perform his task. Aria's nerves were driving her up a wall. That had been the third assassination attempt in as many weeks.

She walked to her door, only to see it ajar. There should be no way to get in there without blasting it open, or having a retina scan of her eyes. There was an intruder in her quarters. Aria fumed. Cursing angrily, she pulled out her pistol, and readied her biotics. She crept through the door, observing the area. She walked through the living room, until suddenly, a voice startled her. She spun, looking upwards, and saw Harry, spread-eagled on her ceiling. She sighed, and plopped down on the nearest couch.

Harry spoke first, saying "It's done. I took over his network. I figure you, at least, deserve to know: I'm the new Shadow Broker." Aria gaped.

"What?" she asked, certain that she had misheard. Harry smiled.

"I'm the new Broker. The previous one didn't adequately protect his interests well enough, so I took over his network, and am now using all off his resources however I see fit." he stated.

Harry gave Aria a pen and a piece of paper.

"Here. I need to test something. Try and write something along the lines of 'Harry Potter is the Shadow Broker.'"

Aria looked at him questioningly, and, frowning, obliged. Her eyes widened when she saw what she had written. Somehow, her hand would not write what she wanted it to. She tried again, and her eyes widened further when she could not write anything at all linking Harry to the Broker.

"And why can't I simply tell people this?" Aria asked Harry, who responded with a smile,

"Try to record yourself telling my identity."

Aria complied, trying to say, 'Harry Potter is the Shadow Broker.', but what came out was "Mercenary groups in the terminus-" Aria stopped. Then tried again. "Eezo mining in the asteroid that Omega is built upon-" Aria looked at Harry, stunned. "What did you _do_?"

"Magic," Harry responded, grinning. Aria shook her head. She didn't even want to think about it. This human could clearly do the impossible with depressing regularity. It gave her a headache.

"What is our relationship going to be like?" Aria asked, tentatively. Harry looked at her, surprised. She was already thinking of the future.

"Well, I think we could have some sort of unspoken alliance. You don't go after my agents, I don't go after yours, and we agree not to deliberately interfere with each other. Hell, we could share information pertaining to each other's operations, like who is going after whom. For example, if you placed surveillance and listening devices all over Omega, you could run a pretty damn good information network. You would share any information you discover about people trying to go after me, and I would share any information I discover about people gunning for you. Also, I could help clean this place up, by going after narcotics dealers and slave traders. In fact, I would greatly appreciate any information you have on slave traders and slave-owners on Omega. If possible, I plan to kill all of the slave traders on this rock, and vastly slow the sale of slaves here." Harry suggested.

Aria looked pensieve. "If we could agree to some sort of defensive pact, where we would collaborate in the event that one of us came under threat, I would happily go along with that plan."

Harry was fine with helping Aria. He knew that she was a capitalist, first and foremost, but if she knew that he was trying to make the galaxy a better place, she would try to help, if only to ingratiate herself with him.

Harry and Aria hammered out a few more details, and shook hands. Then Harry left, after buying a large shuttle, a state-of-the-art mineral scanner, and enough mining equipment to mine out a large asteroid in a matter of days. Aria would surely wonder about his purchase, but would likely ignore it and conduct business as normal.

Harry departed Omega aboard the Nyx, still a work in progress. He was currently working on controlling his new biotics, and had so far managed to create something called a warp, which, when combined with the power of the elder wand, became a terrifying thing capable of melting through bulkheads and heavy armor in seconds. He was also trying to use something called a throw, which was basically a banishing spell. His progress so far was promising. In addition, Harry had figured out how to combine biotics and magic to some degree, with the downside of having black-grey biotics when he did so. While he could separate his biotics from his magic to return them to a blue-grey color, he did not then have access to his magical core for biotic attacks, or his biotics for magical attacks.

On the way to Illium, Harry stopped at the coordinates of a mineral-rich asteroid in the Century system, a remote area some distance away from any nearby relay. He set up the equipment quickly, and went back into the ship to finish his biotics training for the day. Eventually, he got bored, and began scanning the general area. Then he looked at the planet, Klendagon. He saw its famous Rift Valley, laid out in all it's glory, and couldn't help but imagine that the famous 'Rift Valley' was the result of an asteroid strike. Then he had a chilling thought. He looked at the planet using his mage sight, and confirmed his suspicion. He wasn't sure how, but somehow this planet must have been hit by the gleaming metal spike that he'd fired at the Reaper, all those thirty-seven million years ago. A surge of guilt flowed through him. This was his fault. Angry with himself, Harry threw himself into his biotics training, and in the few days that the mining equipment took to secure all resources from the asteroid, Harry marshalled his fury into his biotics, bending the eldritch blue-purple energy to his will. It wasn't long before he mastered the basic Warp, Throw, Pull, and Shockwave.

By the time the asteroid's mines had played out, Harry was ready and able to pick a fight with the standard asari commando. Admittedly, Harry would still be at a disadvantage biotics-wise, because he was still having trouble with his barriers.

Harry picked up the mining equipment, and went off to mine the next asteroid. This time, Harry knew he would need more resources than he could get alone. So in order to more easily gather resources, Harry used a somewhat obscure ritual that could give an object/objects a friendly, subservient, synthetic intelligence able to manipulate small objects in its area of influence. Buttons and controls on equipment and ships were perfectly sized, allowing Harry to create a single synthetic intelligence that could control all of his fleets via a few specialized artifacts in each cockpit.

Harry stood just outside a chalk circle on the floor. A small bowl of his blood sat inside the circle, near a candle which flickered wildly, despite the lack of wind. A grey stone sphere covered in runes and arcane writing floated midair above the bowl of blood. Harry snapped his fingers, starting the ritual. The candle went out, and the chalk circle began to glow a soft white color. Slowly, the stone sphere lowered itself into the bowl of blood. As it touched the surface of the liquid, there was a strange sucking noise, and the sphere slowly absorbed all of the blood in the bowl.

There was a faint rumbling sound, and the stone sphere began to glow brightly. Harry shielded his eyes, and waited for the light to die down. Seconds later, it did just that. The orb remained in midair, floating freely, and emitting a faint green light. Harry could instantly feel the Familiar bond between himself and the creation. He let out a breath. The ritual was complete.

With a flourish, Harry pulled out a bag filled with hundreds more of the stone orbs. Opening it, he directed the sphere inside. There was a humming noise, and then each orb inside the bag began to glow as the first had. They gradually grew brighter, until they were almost too bright to look at, and then began dimming. Moments later, Harry had hundreds of floating orbs surrounding him.

Over the course of an entire day, Harry managed to place one orb into each shuttle and piece of mining equipment. That would allow him to direct them from across the galaxy, if necessary. Harry then used some expansion charms on each shuttle in order for them to hold more minerals, and more mining equipment. Then, he enchanted the mining equipment to be unbreakable, to stay sharp, and to repair itself. Harry proceeded to create a small alloy forge, which would use mass effect fields to create starship-grade alloys and metals, and turn them into smaller vehicles. This was placed under the jurisdiction of the magical intelligence, which Harry instructed to build more shuttles and more mining equipment, until it had mined out all significant resource clusters on that asteroid.

When that task was complete, Harry sent his fifty shiny new shuttles filled with mining equipment to another mineral-rich area: one of Klendagon's moons. He estimated that the large moon would be mined out in a matter of weeks. The intelligence would then ping him through the familiar bond, and he would return, instruct the intelligence to build a shipyard, and start producing more shuttles, frigates, and cruisers, loaded with mining equipment. Harry would then send those off into space, towards other mineral-rich areas to mine and create more shipyards. In essence, Harry was planning to create an exponentially growing fleet, as his automated ships built more and more manufacturing centers, and mined more and more minerals.

Harry was sure that automating construction equipment to carve Runes was one of the best ideas he had, although until he arrived to power up the runes, the ships would have to be built in pieces. The equipment could carve the runes, but not power them with the magic they required. This would definitely be a long-term project. Harry expected to return in around a month to begin the construction of a shipyard, and was hoping to complete the shipyard by the end of another month.

In the meantime, Harry went to Illium. He needed funds, if he wanted to effectively blackmail and bribe enough politicians to actually get a response force going if and when somebody discovered the imminent arrival of the Reapers. And, while the Shadow Broker had been obscenely rich, the Yahg did not have a great head for investment. Harry, after being practically married to a magical stockbroker/arithmancer, knew more than a few things about investment, and the formulae that went with it. Luckily for him, some of the most accurate and easy-to-use arithmancy formulae that Harry had discovered involved investments, and how they would perform in the future.

So Harry got to work, with a conjured notebook and a pen. A few hours later, Harry was busy investing massive amounts of money into military interests, a few research organizations that had a high likelihood of success in their chosen field, and numerous companies on Illium, Palaven, Sur'Kesh, and the Citadel. With those investments, Harry was looking at possibly massive returns.

Satisfied, he conjured another notebook, and began the arithmancy needed to safely create the Portkey Drive that he had theorized about. However, struck by a sudden burst of inspiration, Harry conjured another notebook, and began calculating frantically. Harry had suddenly came to a realization.

One of the most lucrative businesses in the galaxy was communication. Normally, interstellar or inter-relay communications were sent using a network of communications buoys that projected a corridor of low-mass space, with tight-beam laser communications sent through these 'tubes' of FTL space. This allowed any ship within about half a light-second to benefit from near-instantaneous communications. However, there is a limited amount of bandwidth, and it is prioritized with civilian extranet traffic at the very lowest level of importance. The Council and their Spectres had the highest priority, meaning that they always had access to communications throughout the galaxy. The next step down on the ladder of priority would be Governments and their militaries. Then came large corporations that could pay for their priority access to the limited bandwidth, like investment and financial companies that monitored interplanetary stock markets. Last came everyone else: While the general public had access to the extranet, queries could take hours to get to another planet. One thing Harry had noticed, however, was that bandwidth resale companies existed; These corporations would purchase higher-priority bandwidth, and then allow customers access via paid subscription.

Harry already had a bandwidth resale company courtesy of his 'hostile takeover' of the shadow brokerage, and he had some important ideas on how to improve it.

Looking over the data, Harry smiled. There was only one employee officially registered, whose name he recognized as one of the Yahg's virtual aliases. Harry, using the bandwidth-resale company, took out a massive 'loan' from a bank he owned, and used it to purchase an assortment of small offices; one on each of the twenty most populated worlds in Council space, in additoin to one on the Citadel, and one on Omega.

While taking a circuit of the galaxy, Harry stopped at each office, set up the standard advertisements and protections, and created a large assortment of portals, with a variation on the same spells and runes used to create a vanishing cabinet. Each portal led to one of the other planets where 'Kechlu Priority Bandwidth,' Harry's bandwidth-resale company, had an office. Harry anticipated an incredible profit, as he had lowered the monthly rates: Kechlu Bandwidth was now one of the most cost-effective bandwidth-resale companies in the galaxy, although only Harry knew that the company was not actually buying and reselling bandwidth. The company merely had portals to the twenty most populated planets in Council space, with some of the densest fiber-optic cables available to council space passing through and plugging into each planet's local extranet.

Tight-beam laser communication were much faster than a single fiber-optic line, nowadays. With communication buoys creating 'tubes' of faster-than-light space, tightbeam laser communications can travel much faster than light. However, a laser can only transmit so much information, resulting in the bandwidth shortages. Harry, however, merely had a few thick industrial-sized fiber-optic cable stuffed through portals, and into a router that attached to each local extranet. That was _vastly_ faster than the comms buoys.

On the way back to Illium, Harry watched the subscription count rise. He thought that the claims he had made about the bandwidth speed may have discouraged many people, who may have suspected some sort of a scam.

However, the subscription price per month was reasonable, and the bandwidth speed was genuine. Apparently, stellar reviews had reached news outlets, and, over the past two weeks, Kechlu Bandwidth had already paid off the loan it had taken out in order to purchase the offices. Now, Harry was just watching the money flood in.

…..

Much later, Harry awoke to the sound of his Omnitool alarm. He groaned, and checked the screen. Deciphering the display, he figured that he was less than an hour out from Ilium. On the way into the port, Harry paid his docking fees and looked up a competent precious-metals merchant. While Harry had brought massive quantities of gold through the Veil with him, there was no way he could use all of it, so he felt comfortable selling some of his horde. Especially since he was busy making another Philosopher's Stone, which should be ready soon.

The merchant's eyes had widened almost comically when Harry explained the sheer quantity of the metals he was looking to sell. Harry planned to invest his shiny new stack of credits.

All of this could be done over an omni-tool. However, Harry, as an uncontacted non-council race, could not exactly walk around Illium to his heart's content. However, he had a few ideas to fix that.

With a wicked smile, Harry muttered " _Illusus!",_ and with a sight flickering, an inordinately pretty illusion of an asari face shimmered into existence around his head. A color charm turned him blue, and some more illusions covered his hair, making it appear to match the standard asari head-tentacle look. Harry stepped off of the ship, looking like any other asari on Illium.

As he walked, he looked for a bar. Not that he could get drunk, or even pleasantly buzzed- Re'Em Blood Elixir prevented Harry from getting poisoned or drunk. However, he still enjoyed the flavor, and enjoyed seeing the look on other's faces when he was still perfectly sober after chugging near-lethal quantities of alcohol.

Lightly armed police officers sparsely patrolled the surrounding area, looking mostly bored. Their jobs here were most likely limited to ticketing improperly parked aircars and listening to the whining of entitled trust-fund-babies.

This was in one of the more affluent neighborhoods, near the Nos Astra Exchange. Harry stepped along the the walkway, passing storefronts, offices, and trading hubs. Every few hundred feet, lettering on the arcology skyscraper's walls denoted altitude and floor number. A quarter of an hour later, a bar a bar called Eternity caught the wizard's eye. After weighing the consequences of possible discovery, Harry strode up to the bar, and ordered 'The strongest thing on tap.'

The bartender, surprisingly an asari matriarch, muttered, "You asked for it..."too quietly to hear for anyone without Harry's enhanced senses. The bartender put a glass of Ryncol on the table, and looked down her nose at Harry. "Pay up."

The wizard smiled, raised his glass in a toast towards the bartender, and slowly drank the glass, savoring the taste. He then grinned, said, "That's great!" put some credits down, and asked for another. The matriarch, looking somewhat confused, gave Harry another glass, this one with a lot less Ryncol, and cautiously stated, "You'll feel that in a second, why don't you hold off on that for now. Maybe I can interest you with our mystery drink?"

Harry thought for a moment, said cheerfully, "Sure!" The bartender delayed a bit, making a show of mixing the drink, but Harry knew she was waiting for him to collapse like any race but krogan due to ingesting Ryncol. Harry took the mystery drink, and slowly swilled it around, before slowly drinking it down, like the Ryncol. Harry looked over at the krogan on the barstool next to him.

Smiling, Harry suggested a drinking competition. The Krogan, laughingly agreed, and the two drank heavily, joking and talking, alternating between serious conversation and screwing around. This continued, leaving the bartender more and more confused, as Harry remained sober after drinking multiple bottles of Ryncol. As they finished the seventh bottle, the krogan collapsed into unconsciousness with a grunt. At that, the bartender walked over, and sharply said,

"Alright. You just drank Urdnot Wrex under the table. How are you still alive? Genetic modification? Advanced cybernetic liver? No pain-receptors? Are you some sort of synthetic infiltrator? Hmmm… By now you should be either lying on the ground, unconscious,or dead from the contents of those bottles. Ryncol would have literally liquefied the internal organs of any normal asari by now." Harry simply smiled at the bartender, and stated, deadpan,

"I'm not an asari. I'm a member of an undiscovered possibly long-dead possibly pre-prothean secret society to whom little things like alcohol didn't matter. I can't get drunk, but I certainly enjoy the taste. Could I get another few bottles please?"

The bartender laughed at the impossibility of the statement, murmured,

"So you're a funny drunk." and got Harry two more bottles of Ryncol. As Harry paid his tab and left, the bartender quietly murmured to herself, "That was… the strangest asari I've ever seen."

Harry called back, jokingly, from the open doorway, across the crowded room, "I'm not strange, I'm just different!"

The asari matriarch looked up, in surprise. Harry dropped all his glamours and illusions for half a second, and winked. Then he took a step back, and the door automatically closed. The bartender's eyes bugged out, and she quickly ran to open the door, but Harry was gone. Matriarch Aethyta scratched her head. Nobody would ever believe her.

Harry chuckled. Apparently drinking contests were a part of Krogan tradition. He would have to visit Tuchanka, at some point. He had spoken extensively with the Krogan, whose name was Wrex, apparently. He had gotten some ideas to improve Tuchanka, which he would put into action if anyone other than Wrex could actually give him some hope that the krogan clans wouldn't simply multiply out of control and re-enact the Krogan rebellions.

Harry then ducked into a doorway, apparated to a bathroom by the docking bay, and walked the rest of the way to his ship. He paid the next day's docking fee, and went to bed. The next morning, dawn would find Harry preparing weaponry. He had paid a salarian information broker to find any information on a batarian slave ring that he had heard some rumors about, and the alien had come through. Harry had a location and a rough map of the area.

There would be many dead batarians before this was over.

…...

Twilight found Harry standing on top of a large office building, using an enchanted pair of binoculars to watch an aircar descend to what should be a maintenance level of the Illium Library. Although it would normally be deserted, there were a few batarians and a turian or two standing by a parked aircar in the middle of the Maintenance floor. The descending craft slowly turned towards the maintenance level, and landed. The driver and an asari in the passenger seat both got out of the vehicle. The asari was clearly the leader, as she seemed to be berating some hapless batarian, who was cringing in fear. The body language of the rest of the group suggested the same thing, with nervous hand motions, fidgeting, and some hand-wringing going on among the batarian group. Harry couldn't hear from such height, so he slipped on death's cloak, and jumped. Slowing his fall with his flight, Harry alighted quietly on top of the parked aircar, and began to listen in on the angry asari and the batarian group.

"-What do you _mean_ we only have ninety-two? We only get paid for the full shipment, you idiots! Where do you expect to find eight more slaves? Damn it! Just get them from the _goddess-damned_ library, for all I care!"

….

Liara T'Soni had just turned seventy. She was currently celebrating by visiting the Illium Central Archive, reputed to be the best archeological library in the galaxy. She had just left the elevator and was heading to the section on Protheans, when suddenly, she heard an alarm go off. She looked around, confused, hearing yelling. She heard a biotic blast, and looked towards the source of the noise with concern.

Too late, she looked away, and a rough hand grabbed her from behind, trying to cover her mouth. She screamed and lashed out with her biotics, trapping her attacker with a weak Stasis. She turned and ran. She sprinted through the shelves, followed by at least three sets of footsteps. She ran until she could run no longer.

She fell, hearing footsteps circling around her. She rolled over, trying to launch a singularity, like she had been taught. Looking up, she saw six batarians and a turian leaning towards her with a slave collar: a device designed to instill obedience via pain, and blow up if taken off wrong. One of the slavers said in coarse asari,

"That makes eight. let's take them and get out."

Liara cried out in fury, and blasted the batarian with a powerful burst of biotic energy. Then she heard a gurgle, and a * _ **Snick***_ , then one batarian fell, clutching his neck, a female batarian stumbled sideways, holding her chest, and another splattered against the nearest shelf as if he had walked into the path of a speeding aircar.

The remaining four criminals watched helplessly in wide-eyed horror. Liara thought she heard a muttered syllable, and then a nearby metal table morphed and _changed:_ titanium table, computers _,_ and screens _twisted_ into the frame of a titanium varren-like form with long sharp teeth, claws, glowing violet eyes, and a long tail with a blade at the end. The metal _thing_ pounced, claws scraping at the tile floor. Liara closed her eyes, knowing that this was it. She heard a rapid " _snick-slice-rip-tear-splat. Thud. Thud. Thud-thud."_ And then, a few seconds later, " _purrrrrrrrrr…"_ Liara waited a few seconds. The purring noise repeated. Then something cool and metal touched her nose. Liara gasped, opened her eyes, let out a small shriek, and reflexively closed her eyes again.

She had been looking directly into the glowing eyes of the blade-covered metal creation. She slowly opened her eyelids again, seeing the large silver automaton move away. It had been looking into her eyes. It looked like it had… licked her face? It then looked at her again, seemed to shiver a little, then it stopped moving.

As she watched, the light in its eyes faded out, and the creation slowly changed, morphing back into a table covered in screens and computers, just as it had been before. The table hovered back into place, and some of the screens flickered back on. Then Liara noticed the bodies. One was cut cleanly in half. One was stabbed in the chest. One was decapitated. And one was only identifiable by the parts splattered across the shelves.

Liara heard a quiet word, and then suddenly, her feelings of horror and terror became one of surreality. She heard steady footsteps, and heard a calm voice speak in lightly accented asari,

"Hey. My name is Harry. I dealt with those slavers. You're safe now. Could you come this way, please?"

She looked for the source of the voice. She saw… a being. Tan, with heavy clothing and… was that hair? As she watched, the humanoid's features shimmered, turning into the face and figure of an asari. The being guided an insensate Liara to a squad of asari commandos skulking around a corner. A low voice hissed,

" _You!"_ And the lead commando ran over and hugged the strange being. "I don't know who or what you are, but thank you." The being's face contorted in confusion, then looked intently at the commando. The being let out a small "oh." Then whispered something in the commando's ear.

Harry quietly told Matriarch Aethyta "Tell Liara about her parentage. Tell her the truth. She'll thank you." Then he spun behind a bookshelf and apparated away. Aethyta whirled, looking for him, as a quiet 'crack' heralded his disappearance.

Harry had already cuffed Nassana Dantius, the slave band's sponsor, rescued the other seven asari unlucky enough to be browsing through the archive on that level, and taken care of the rest of the slavers. In addition, Harry had pulled information from Nassana's head, grabbing bank accounts, passwords, etc. He had also stolen her stock in Dantius inc., giving himself a controlling influence in the company.

Harry was content. He had stopped an abduction ring, stolen hundreds of millions of credits from undeserving hands, and disarmed the bomb collars on the researchers, however it was a bit unfortunate that he hadn't had the time to take out the security camera live feed. He had destroyed the storage unit, but the asari commando team, led by the bartending matriarch, Aethyta, had watched the live feed for almost all of the operation. Admittedly, due to some clever illusions, she was not aware of exactly what he had done. She had seen him sneak up behind the slavers and shoot, strangle, and power through then with biotics, not banish, slice, and transfigure monsters out of metal. He was pretty sure that she had recorded some of it, as well. At least he had a hood over his face, so his identity was protected.

Over the course of a few weeks, Harry continued to go to Aethyta's bar, if only to mess with her. Over time, they lapsed into an easy camaraderie. She had spoken with Liara, and told her the truth about her parentage, and the story behind her leaving. Just like Harry had said, Liara had thanked Aethyta for telling her. Aethyta had jokingly told Harry, "You must be a mind reader!" when discussing the subject, to which Harry replied in the same jaunty tone,

"Only occasionally. I generally lack the subtlety required to read thoughts without others noticing."

Aethyta laughed. Then Harry got a ping through the familiar bond from his shuttles and mining equipment, now finished mining on Klendagon's moon. Harry rose.

" I'm terribly sorry, Matriarch, but I have to leave. Hopefully, we'll see each other again." In response, Aethyta walked over and hugged him, before asking,

"One last question, before you go. Where did your accent come from?"

Harry smiled, wistfully. " _Earth."_

It was a foreign word, one Aethyta had never heard before. Somehow, she could tell she wouldn't get any more out of the strange Asari. She nodded her head. "Thanks, for all you've done. I hope to see you again, sometime."

Harry walked ponderously, all the way back to his ship. He was glad that he had made a friend. It had been a long few weeks alone. But Harry now had business to attend to. He had received the mental ping from the mining excursion on Klendagon's moon.

On the way there, Harry started the process of fully automating the ship. He drew up schematics for repair bots, and set alert wards that would be tied to each panel. He then performed the ritual to give an object an intelligence, and bound it to him as a familiar, as he had done previously. He activated the alert wards, dropped the brainwashed crew off at the nearest civilized planet for sentencing, and created a repair bot, which would then make more repair bots. Harry now had near complete knowledge of what went on aboard the ship, as well as making to ship entirely automated, and able to repair itself. He had just finished by the time he arrived at Klendagon.

He had been correct; it had taken a few weeks to mine out the majority of the minerals in the planet's moon. Harry saw a honeycomb of tunnels, filled with scurrying mining equipment carrying minerals upwards. As he watched, Harry drew up designs for a shipyard capable of producing Dreadnaught-class and larger ships. At the moment, it would be busy constructing shuttles and mining equipment, but later, Dreadnaughts, and even larger ships, would be required.

Recently, Harry had managed to create a less powerful philosopher's stone, which turned lead, aluminum, and other less useful materials into steel, bulkhead-grade alloy, and iridium. That had come in handy, as those less useful materials were not at all in short supply.

Harry's mining equipment was busy digging a hole to the center of the moon. In another few months, the metal core of the moon would be harvested.

In the meantime, Harry would have to power up runes on thousands of pieces of mining equipment, and on a few hundred shuttles. Before he did that, he ordered the machines to cover their mines, as to not attract suspicion. Staying hidden would be all-important.

Powering runes was not difficult. It was merely time-consuming. Harry went to sleep twenty-three hours later, only a quarter of the way done. Many hundreds of pieces of mining equipment were now vastly more effective, mining with impossibly sharp drills, and gathering impossibly large quantities of material.

Harry also started the construction a few more low-grade philosopher's stones: they would be able to convert lead and other less valuable materials to higher metals, and did so much more quickly than the actual philosopher's Stone, but they could not transmute any material into anything as valuable as gold. Admittedly, this would allow Harry to gain massive amounts of minerals, ready for use. The second shipyard would be done a week; it would make shuttles, then begin producing frigates. It would build them in pieces, so that Harry could power up his runes and enhancements, then slide the pieces together.

The shipyards would, after a few months, be floated into the mineral-rich core of the moon, after it was mined out enough. Then the entire operation would be disguised, buried under miles of rock, as Harry had completed the Portkey drive, allowing ships to pass through alternate dimensions to get to their destination. Expansion charms would allow Harry to store ships in spaces less than one-third their size, allowing the moon to become a staging ground for massive fleets. However, the moon's metal core was still in the process of being mined. Harry was barely able to keep up with the newly created objects, be they shuttle, mining equipment, or shipyard parts.

Months later, the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth shipyards, now installed in the moon's core, had begun working on frigates. The Nyx was Harry's vessel, and he used the shipyards to vastly improve it. He gave it better engines, shields, weapons, and even gave it the massive two kilometer long anti-capital magnetohydrodynamic cannon that he'd planned to include. It was the largest thing he could fit, even with expansion charms. In addition, there were missiles, eezo torpedoes, and a trio of fighter wings, each with their own intelligence.

Returning to the shipyard, Harry groaned. Then smiled. Nobody messes with a Von Neumann machine. Then Harry groaned again. This would take a while.

…..

 **Ten years later**

…

Harry had received a message.

Turian fleets were attacking something beyond a newly activated relay. Since these were still preliminary reports, Harry couldn't be absolutely certain about anything. However, descriptions of the race the turian patrol fleet was fighting sounded identical to humans: pink skin, five appendages on each of four limbs, an Asari-like cranium, lips, teeth, and hair.

He decided to go with his gut.

Harry mobilized his fleets. Every single one had a Portkey Drive built in since Harry first completed it. Traveling at relay-travel speeds, Harry's military fleet launched itself into FTL, heading directly for Shanxi orbit.


	3. Harry Changes Things

In six years, Harry's machines had harvested all of the most significant mineral deposits on Klendagon's moon. He had then began cracking open smaller mineral-rich planets, and harvesting entire asteroid belts. It was an astounding amount of material to process. Still, Harry had used all the material from Klendagon's moon in two years time. Scrapping most of the plan to hide fleets inside the moon, Harry had used the vast majority of material to personally create around forty shipyards, which were just now coming online. In addition, he built, bought, or stole much more mining equipment. His shipyards pumped out mining frigates and shuttles, as well as an assortment of mining cruisers, and a small number of Dreadnaughts tooled for mining vast areas at once. The rest of the fleets, the minority, were military ships.

One year ago, Harry had begun the construction of a super-dreadnought, a ten-kilometer monstrosity armed with twelve massive twenty-kilometer Magnetohydrodynamic weapons. (Undetectable expansion charms were absolutely required for their construction.) He already had around one hundred and ninety mining frigates, fifty mineral-gathering cruisers, thirty destroyers tooled up to be shipyards, which created and repaired smaller ships, as well as twenty Dreadnaughts, fifteen of which were built solely as combination shipyards and mining expeditions. They were designed to be sent to mine out vast sections of solar systems, using massive guns to crack open asteroids and smaller moons, then transform the resources gathered into smaller ships; cruisers, frigates, and shuttles. The other five dreadnaughts were purely military. Their vast expanses of hull bristled with guns.

Harry's research had continued fruitfully. He had recently managed to create a Philosopher's stone pure enough to create Elixir of life. While the same stone couldn't also refine lead into gold, Harry was still amazed that he had succeeded.

Over the last ten years, Harry had mastered almost the entire arsenal available to biotic soldiers, and had managed to automate the process of powering up runes and enchantments in his shipyards. He merely had to put a massive amount of power into a ward stone that he carried with him, which would then transfer the energy across the galaxy to ward stones at each one of his shipyards. From there, the ward stone charged the runes and spells on the ships as they were assembled. This process had greatly improved the rate of ship production almost from the moment it had been put into action, about a year into Harry's fleet production plan.

Due to this innovation, Harry could no longer only produce ships as fast as he could personally engrave and power their enchantments. As long as his magic could keep up, his ship construction would continue, even if he was on the opposite end of the galaxy.

Only days ago had Harry finished the first super-capital ship. It was time to test it out.

…..

General Williams was tired. His men were tired. The civilians they were supposed be protecting were tired. And now, Williams was in a quandary. The turian general had just threatened to bomb the colony's civilian population centers. That was what they had been fighting to defend, and now they faced a choice. If they fought, they would lose the civilian population, and if they surrendered, they would save the civilian population, but lose the ability to fight.

With resignation, General Williams spoke to his strategic advisors.

"Fight to the last man!" cried one man.

"The collateral damage would be too high," another argued.

"We should try to evacuate the population centers first!" still another advisor cautioned. Williams simply shook his head.

"We can't fight them in the sky, and we can't fight groundside for fear of orbital bombardment. Simply put, we must surrender, and try for the best terms we can."

There was dead silence. Then, in an uproar, his advisors clamored,

"We can't-we'll never- the surest way to destruction is to surrender!"

Williams sighed. He opened the neutral channel between himself and the turian general. Regret slowed his hand as he picked up the microphone. Williams brought it to his face, and spoke softly.

"I am General Williams, of the Systems Alliance. I would like to discuss-" then a voice interrupted. To Williams' confusion, the voice was brash, staticky, triumphant, and above all, _human._

"You weren't about to surrender, were you, Williams? Not when I'm about to get them running?".

Williams's advisors and analysts looked at the console, stumped.

"You- what? To whom am I speaking?" Williams sputtered. "How did you get on this channel?"

"I'm bringing my fleet to bear." Replied the voice over the radio. "You can call me Harry. And anyone with an omni-tool can hear this channel. Hell, probably the entire turian force here is listening in. I-"

A rumbling low voice that sent a chill down Williams's spine cut him off. That was the voice of the turian general occupying the sector.

"I don't know who you are, human. But know this: there are no fleets in orbit other than mine. I seem to have just gotten some reinforcements, as well. Whatever you do, you are still going to lose. Now let the good general surrender, please."

The human's voice responded amicably.

"He may surrender if he wishes. But me and my Dreadnaughts may wish otherwise. I suggest that you surrender, turian." It was at that moment that one of Williams's analysts whispered something, with an ashen, horror-struck expression.

" _One kilometer?"_ Williams looked at him questioningly. The analyst stuttered. "The turians have received reinforcements. One of the ships grouping up with the turian battlegroup is at least one _kilometer_ long. There are ten others at least two-hundred meters."

Williams felt like he had been punched in the gut. Nothing the systems Alliance could muster was above five hundred meters. And they couldn't fight against eleven more ships. Regretfully, Williams walked back to the communications console. He picked up the microphone, ready to surrender, only to hear through the 'secure' channel,

"What? That's it? Just one? You have thirty-six more, just doing nothing on patrols. Alright. You get one more chance to surrender, turian, unless you want to be responsible for the fastest defeat in your species's history."

There was a breathtaking silence, and then the turian general said, in a confused tone, "Are you all _mad_? Must you fight to the last?"

The human voice spoke again. "I guess that's a no. Well, maybe you'll learn something." then, faintly, "Uncloak. Fire all guns. One volley." then the audio cut.

Williams heard the command, and his eyes widened. Cloaking had been a fictional technology which made constant appearances in movies and games, but never had he expected to see it in action. A second passed. Williams began to doubt the voice over the radio. Cloaking technology was decades away, if possible at all. It was impossible.

Then his strategic analysts started staring at something on their screens. One of them beckoned to Williams, without looking away.

"I'm getting some strange readings here." A confused analyst stuttered. "My sensors are going haywire."

As Williams approached, he realised that the analysts were watching a patched together live feed of the turian fleet. Then, as one they leaned forwards, as something massive appeared on screen. Williams walked forwards, listening to the conversation.

"-Has to be at least ten kilometers."

"That's impossible."

"What about the other ships? There are five others, each at least two kilometers."

"We've been seeing a lot of impossible things lately, gentlemen." Williams stated hopefully. "Now what exactly seems impossible? I would enjoy being kept in the loop."

Williams looked at the screen. One massive ship had appeared on scanners, easily outclassing every other ship on the scan. It registered as just over ten kilometers. Five others had also appeared, arrayed around the largest ship. Each of them were at least two kilometers.

In rapid succession, the ten-kilometer ship fired twelve blasts of glowing blue energy, each one eviscerating another turian ship. However, all eyes were on the twelfth and final shot, which hit the turian dreadnought head-on. The blast, fired at impossibly high velocities, was stopped for a breathless tenth of a second by the ship's shields, before it tore through them as if they didn't exist. The shot impacted the turian dreadnought's nose, force peeling bulkheads, and coring the ship. Then, with a massive burst of light, the shot hit the ship's central reactor cluster, and all of the sensors General Williams had access to whited out with static as the core went critical. Slowly the picture came back, and transmissions were restored. The unknown human's voice came over the channel, "That's why I told you not to surrender, Williams. Now I'm getting out of here."  
"Excuse me?" Williams said, wondering whether he had heard the man right. "Why would you need to leave? You've just saved the colony of Shanxi. You're a hero."

"I know I saved the colony of Shanxi." The voice said. "However, if I landed on Earth, I'd never get any peace. Everyone and their commanding officer would be chasing me and my tech from one end of the galaxy to another. I bet as soon as I landed, my shuttle and everything on my person would be confiscated in the name of 'Galactic Security.' Besides, I don't trust the rest of humanity not to declare war on everyone and everything the moment they get superior weaponry."

"But surely you could keep other alien races from attacking humanity?" Williams queried. The voice replied, more quietly, but with a surety that left no room for doubt:

"When humanity comes under attack, I will be there. I can't be your military, but my ships and I will always appear in any major conflicts humanity gets into. You can count on that. We can talk more later, when we're not on an omni-tool accessible channel. This conversation is already public. I'm almost certain that most of the turian forces here have been listening in on the entire thing." Harry said.

Williams sat back in his seat, exhilarated. He had news for Alliance intelligence.

….

Harry's mind was in turmoil. He had traveled back home to the Sol system, while his ship remained cloaked. He had expected things to have remained at least somewhat similar, but he had been pleasantly surprised to find that was not the case. There were many changes from the solar system Harry remembered.

The Charon relay was one example of this. Seers and centaurs the world over had always been confused by the stellar body, as it had no significance in any branch of divination. The abnormality was one of a rare few glowing objects in the sky that had no relevance to any known magics.

The Relay, however, was the least of the surprises. Mars was _green,_ and covered with farms, cities, and life. Humanity was thriving. Harry had no idea how that could have happened.

Harry launched himself out of the main airlock of his ship as he passed Ceres: The Nyx would land on the dwarf planet's surface and hide until Harry needed it. Harry's trajectory brought him to Earth within the next few hours.

Harry was very grateful to have flame-freezing charms as he used the Earth's atmosphere to slow himself down to a (somewhat) reasonable speed. Admittedly, since the flame-freezing charm caused a tickling sensation proportional to the heat the caster would have experienced, Harry felt as if his entire body had been beaten black and blue. At least he could fix his injuries quickly with some healing charms.

Harry was able to guide himself towards Britain with some creative application of wandless flight, and, once he slowed to terminal velocity, with a broom. Mindful of the consequences of interfering with the Statutes of Secrecy, he remained under Death's cloak for the entirety of his journey.

However, as he approached the outskirts of London, Harry could hardly miss the spires of steel and glass in the distance. Vast skyscrapers towered over the surrounding hills and valleys. Harry's mind whirled. Things had most certainly changed.

As Harry approached London, he noticed the aircars. Apparently flying cars were popular both on earth and in the greater galaxy; Vehicles featuring eerily similar designs graced every planet in Citadel Space. However, Harry was stunned by the sheer number of aircars. This was London's rush hour, and the skies were abuzz with aircraft.

Harry sped up as he reached central London, fast turns around futuristic buildings showing his apprehension. Harry slowed almost to a stop as he blasted around a corner and found himself staring at the same pub he so fondly remembered. The sign, 'The Leaky Cauldron' was the same, although much worse for wear, and there was a soft glowing light coming from the windows.

Harry landed, removed his cloak, and stepped quickly up to the door. With a decisive movement, Harry thrust it open, revealing a peaceful scene.

A few couples chatted as a young man served food and drinks. Harry caught a glimpse of Diagon Alley as a very old woman with a tall pointed hat and bushy brown hair walked through the brick passageway.

Harry smiled. Gleefully, he walked to the bar in search of a newspaper and a menu.

"Hello. I'm looking for a newspaper, if you've got one?" He questioned. I've been out of the loop for a while."

The proprietor, a middle-aged man bearing a striking resemblance to Neville Longbottom, spoke up, cheerfully passing Harry a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Good evening! I don't believe I've seen you before. I'm Harold Longbottom, proprietor of the Leaky Cauldron. What can I get for you today?" The older man said, in a voice that suggested that all was right in the world.

"My name is Harry. I haven't really been around here for a long time, so you'd probably have forgotten me." said Harry, suddenly realizing that giving his name freely may not be the most intelligent maneuvers. "I'd like a meal; do you happen to have a menu I could look at?"

"I certainly do! I'd be a poor bartender without one!" the man joked. After a few seconds browsing through the menu, Harry picked his meal.

"I'd like a shepherd's pie, along with pumpkin juice and treacle tart, please?" he requested, while pulling out a few silver sickles.

The old woman who had just exited the Alley into the pub spun around. She stared for a few seconds, then with a whisper that carried across the room, she spoke,

" _Harry?"_

The object of the woman's attention turned, and looked at her with confusion, until an expression of recognition shot across his face.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, uncertain.

"Harry! It's been so long since I last saw you! How are you? How have you been? Where were you?" the elderly witch asked, excitement shining through every facet of her features.

"Well, as you guys know, I may have stepped through the Veil of Death." Harry said, with a wince.

"Yes, we knew. Daphne told us where you had gone around two thousand seventy. She later told a select few of us about your message when the Ministry started going into hysterics after she landed a spacecraft in Diagon Alley. Her companies basically shaped the expansion if the magical and muggle worlds, from Earth, all the way out to the other colonized planets in the Systems Alliance. In fact, you may be the only magical unaware of this, but we have our own planet now."

"What?" Harry was certain he hadn't heard correctly.

"We have a planet that is populated purely by magicals. Somehow the Department of mysteries managed to terraform Mars, and then do the same to Proxima B. Daphne then built a small fleet of spaceships using your Element Zero tech, and sent them out to Proxima Centauri with a few Vanishing Cabinets. Then Daphne, myself, and the Minister at the time spoke to a coalition of muggle governments, and got them to agree to stay away from Proxima B. It was truly a sight to see: lots of blustery old men getting out-blustered by Daphne, the CEO of one of the largest companies in the world, The Minister, myself, and some of the brightest minds in the particle physics fields." Hermione reminisced, a wistful smile threatening to snap her face in two.

"That's incredible! What else happened while I was gone?" Harry asked, eagerly awaiting more information.

"Well, That covers most of the important bits. Do you know how most of the countries in the world joined together, and created the Systems Alliance? Well, the Magical World did something similar. The International Coalition of Warlocks was abolished, and now we have the Interplanetary Council of Magical Beings. It's wonderful! We managed to get an equal rights movement for magical creatures going in the two-thousand-eighties, and it was astoundingly successful." Hermione gushed. "By the way, where have you been for one hundred fifty years?" the old woman added playfully.

"I- well, when I went through the Veil, I found myself on a civilized planet, just in time to watch it get invaded by the Reapers. Daphne must have told you about them. I managed to kill one, and steal a lot of its memories and blueprints for weapons and such, but the backlash had me in a coma for almost thirty-seven million years. I woke up, actually, around eleven or twelve years ago, and figured out that there's a galactic society of alien species who rely on mass effect technology. I only learned how to get back to Earth when I received some information that led me to believe that Humanity was under attack." Harry looked down at his newspaper. The headline read, " _Shanxi Colony Under Attack!"_. Harry smiled, held up the paper, and stated calmly,

"I stopped this. The next newspaper will likely have some pretty unbelievable things in it. I suggest you believe them. Now I've finished my meal, and I need to go see Daphne." Harry spoke. Quickly, Hermione blurted,

"Harry, Daphne passed away sixteen years ago." Dumbstruck, Harry choked on his food.

"What?"

"Harry, everyone you know is gone. That's a bit blunt, I admit, but it's the truth. Our generation is _gone._ Remember, there were less than forty students in our age group at Hogwarts. It hasn't gotten any better. One by one, they all disappeared, died, or moved to the muggle world."

"What happened to Daphne?" Harry questioned, eyes wide.

"She died saving hundreds of magicals when a pure-blood supremacist tried to nuke the International Council of Magical Beings. She was the leader of the whole thing; the Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, head honcho. So when somebody pulled a nuke out of a wizard's tent and set it on a very short timer in the middle of her meeting, she acted. She saved some of the most important beings in existence that day, when she grabbed that bomb and apparated straight up twenty or thirty miles. However, we were in Armstrong City, on the moon. She died a day later in Saint Mungo's after writing a will and casting a few spells."

"That can't be possible- Damn it all to hell!" Harry hissed.

Disengaging from the conversation, Harry stormed out of the Leaky Cauldron, and apparated to his cottage on Avalon, noticing that the gardens and surrounding landscape were overrun with weeds. Worry festered in his gut.

Harry broke into a run, desperately hoping that Daphne had somehow survived. However, his hope was shattered when he walked onto his back porch. There was something new there. A cobblestone path led down to the beach, where the waves washed against the sand.

However, the cobblestone ended at a magnificent stone pavilion by the edge of the sea, with two statues facing the open ocean. One of the stone figures held an arm outstretched, pointing out into the deeps.

As Harry approached, he realized who they were. One statue was of Daphne, and the other was of himself. He stopped, frozen. Then, with heavy heart and slow footsteps, Harry walked up the steps of the pavilion, and stood next to the pedestal upon which the statues were placed. There was a large stone tablet on the base of the pedestal, into which words were carved. The grave marker read:

 _Daphne Greengrass_

 _February 1rst, 1980 - April 9th, 2141_

 _Greetings._

 _If you're reading this, you're probably Harry Potter. Either that, or the wards have collapsed and the formerly British Government is desperately trying to figure out how an entire island off their coast escaped their notice for hundreds of years._

 _However, if the wards have not collapsed, and you are Harry Potter, I hope you like the statues. I charmed the pavilion to appear upon the moment of my death._

 _I have a lot to say to you. Since I've clearly died, this will be in writing._

 _First: I'm sorry. I willingly gave up my life to save the ICMB, and I don't regret that. I would do it again if necessary. My only regret is that I won't be able to see you again._

 _Second: There is a spell that consumes a Philosopher's stone, called the Terraforming Spell._

 _The first instance of its use is why Mars is habitable._

 _The Flamel-made Stones were the only ones that were pure enough to function with the spell._

 _You left me the one you made in conjunction with the Flamels, and after they disappeared, they willed theirs to the Department of Mysteries._

 _The department used it to terraform Mars; I made myself a few centuries of elixir, and then gave them our Stone so they could terraform Proxima B._

 _If not for my self-sacrifice, I would have wound up dying from old age eventually._

 _This was my decision to make; don't blame yourself. I love you, Harry._

 _P.S._

 _I left you everything. All our vaults in Gringotts, all our properties, all our stocks belong solely to you now. You can access an extradimensional pocket where I stored passwords and information for our Muggle investments, as well as my small ocean of Elixir of Life, if you place your hands flat upon this tablet._

 _Now go get drunk and save the universe. (Yes, I know that's how you'll mourn for me; don't even try to deny it.)_

 _-Daphne Greengrass_

Harry heeded her advice. Sitting down on a bench between the statues and the sea, Harry pulled out the Ryncol he had gotten from Aethyta's bar. Over the course of the next few hours, he finished every single bottle. Then he went into the city and began fabricating records. Birth certificates, college degrees, everything. It wouldn't hold up to heavy scrutiny, but it was enough.

…..

Harry went back to Diagon Alley, and sent Hermione a letter. He was quite surprised to find that she had been the Headmistress of Hogwarts for almost seventy years. After touring the old castle again, and doing some research in the school library, Harry said farewell, and went to visit Proxima B, or, as the Magical governments called it, Haven. The planet was a shining example of all the best parts of Magical society. Vast spires towered into the clouds, and green expanses of self-farming land supported a booming population. Truly, the place was a magical miracle. It was an incredible change from the incompetent impotent ministry of Harry's early life.

He explored the planet, sticking to the extreme edges of society. He had no wish to be famous again, even though the magical community seemed to be much more forgiving. In Harry's experience, fame led to notoriety, which led to infamy.

Harry spent two years getting up to speed with any and all magical advances made in the last fifteen decades. There was a surprising amount for him to learn, and he took to the new material with ease.

On Hermione's advice, Harry had looked into the history of the muggle and magical worlds in his absence. Slowly, he was enthralled by the new societies, new politics, and new governments exhibited in the muggle world. After reassuring himself that the magical world was not in peril or under attack, Harry disappeared. He sent Hermione a note that explained his absence, as well as told her how to contact him in an emergency.

Then, Harry enlisted in the Alliance military. He learned to shoot (better) , he learned the benefits of armor (again), and he learned that people become very confused when you can bend steel with your bare hands. They then tend to take lots of blood samples and run lots of tests, which results in having to 'Obliviate' lots of people. It also got Harry some highly useful intel, as he gathered useful knowledge while playing around in the minds of others.

Joining the military was not all sparkles, roses, and rainbows. In fact, Harry had been sent through a whole host of different training facilities to try to find his aptitudes.

Flight school was a bust; they thought he was far too reckless, even though he smashed the records in every single category except 'safety'. Apparently if he had been flying a troop transport, every man aboard would have been "Moderately to severely injured." However, Harry had blasted through the training course with such speed that the previous record was a full half-minute behind his.

Harry's infiltration training was stopped after a month, as apparently Harry lacked 'subtlety' and endangered himself far too frequently for the standard Alliance infiltrator. His training mission was an unqualified success, but Harry's cover was blown, and the firefight he had caused had resulted in hundreds of thousands of credits worth of property damage.

His biotics were incredibly strong, but when he 'accidentally' killed the sadistic turian mercenary teaching the program, he very nearly burned that bridge. He completed biotics training in a whirl of blue power, stunning the new asari instructor with both his endurance, skill, reach, and flexibility.

Eventually, Harry was simply placed into the Alliance Marines, as a standard biotic soldier.

…...

A year later, Harry had completed basic training, and was three months into a quiet six-month deployment on Mindoir when disaster struck.

….

Harry lived for the camaraderie and friendships formed in his first few months of military enlistment. He had been conflicted before joining up, as his current mission to destroy the reapers was extremely vague. Harry had no idea whether the reapers would come in one year, or in ten thousand years. However, Harry certainly could help out wherever possible. To that end, he had requested a billet on one of the colonies most at-risk of slaver attacks.

So far, everything had been quiet. Harry kept up his physical training, kept his marksmanship at record-setting levels, and practiced magic for most of the day. The remaining few hours were spent aiding the citizenry of Mindoir. Harry was at peace, until one of Alliance Command's worst fears came calling.

….

Harry woke up to the sound of explosions. He and his twelve man squad were up and armed before they were fully awake. They ran for the briefing room, grabbing weaponry on the way.

Five minutes later, the group had figured out what was going on: slavers were attacking the colony. Harry immediately sent somebody to activate the emergency distress beacon. He then sent the Nyx, which he had hidden on-planet, to disable any batarian ships in orbit.

Harry knew instantly that he could no longer downplay his biotic abilities. He would do anything he could to save the people of Mindoir. It was with this in mind that he walked out of the briefing, biotics flaring.

Harry scowled, frustrated. If he used any visible magic, he would never be able to return to Alliance space under his real name. Just like with his technology, if the Alliance figured out what he was truly capable of, they would never let him rest.

Harry's scowl deepened. It would also take too long to infuse his biotics with his magic. He would have to do with standard biotic attacks.

A hostile shuttle touched down in the nearby square, and batarians poured out. Screams and the sound of stun guns rent the air. The crowds in the square fled, but too many fell to the non-lethal weapons. After barely two minutes, unconscious bodies littered the square. Harry scowled, as batarians began to load bodies into the shuttle. That would _not_ happen on his watch. Harry walked over to the shuttle, clad in Death's Cloak. He stepped into the cockpit, and carefully put a bullet in the batarian pilot's head. He then paced back down the ramp, and with careful, precise fire, took out each and every batarian he could see. He pulled off his cloak and sprinted off at incredible speed, just as the rest of his team ran out of the briefing room.

…...

Sixteen-year-old Jane Shepard was in the city for the weekend. She had been exposed to a significant amount of eezo again, recently, and was just recovering now. She was still weak from Eezo-contamination treatments, and required a wheelchair.

She was traveling with her parents to a coffee joint in the city's main square, when she heard the whine of engines. She looked up, and saw around five shuttles descending on the small colony. She asked her parents about them, but their responses only raised more questions.

She watched, curious, as one of the strange shuttles landed in the square. Then the doors opened, and she got a glance of grey skin and red armor. Then she heard gunfire, and was knocked out of her wheelchair by panicking crowds. She heard stun guns, then watched as the crowd fell around her. She saw the batarians begin gathering up the unconscious bodies, and white-hot anger flared into existence, buried in her chest. A second later, she realized that she was glowing blue with biotic power. Her brow furrowed.

When the batarians got within range, she tensed, and tried to launch a biotic attack, like she had seen on the extranet. She tried, but all she could do was make a light show, attracting the batarian's attention. Angry, she tried again, only to feel a crushing weight of exhaustion pressing in, erupting black spots around the edges of her vision. As the batarians reached her, she tried again, barely avoiding unconsciousness. With a loud ' _Whoosh!_ ' a blue sphere launched from her hand, and _melted_ the batarian that it collided with. Jane blacked out for a few seconds.

She regained consciousness seconds later, only to realize that one of the batarians was carrying her over his shoulder with a bastardized fireman's carry. He started to walk towards the shuttle, until it exploded.

A man, wreathed in biotic energy, ran out of the explosion, calmly carrying two unconscious civilians. He placed them lightly on the ground, then _blurred_ into action, with a biotic charge. Biotic projectiles flew, dismembering a few batarians. A few gunshots rang out. The batarian holding Jane choked and stumbled, with a massive hole through his chest.

A pair of arms helped Jane to the ground, cautiously lowering her. She looked up into the face of an alarmed green-eyed Alliance Marine before falling into unconsciousness.

Harry had just taken out the shuttle and its crew before attending to the fallen civilians. He watched one of the batarian he had shot stumble,and fall forward, dropping a young woman Harry had seen around the colony. Harry quickly charged forwards and steadied her. Harry then lowered the girl to the ground cautiously. He looked back at her, and said, enunciating clearly,

"You're safe, do you hear me?" immediately before she faded into unconsciousness.

Harry sprinted to the next site that the batarians had landed at a fast as he could. He arrived barely two minutes later, puffing slightly as he ran down the country road towards the shuttle. As he approached, he saw a batarian loading colonists into the vehicle. So, as soon as he reached the vehicle, Harry tore the side door of the craft off of its hinges.

Looking through the hole he had created, Harry saw unconscious colonists laying in piles on the floor of the vehicle. Angrily, Harry ran through the area to the pilot's chair, and disabled the vehicle with a turquoise shockwave that pulverized the entire pilot's console, and turned the pilot into a splatter.

Harry stepped out of the ruined cockpit, and looked around. This property was a farm, with a large building to house employees off to the side of the road. That must have been what this group of batarians were after. Harry looked around for the batarian raiders that had arrived on the shuttle he had just destroyed. Some were watching in anger, as he destroyed their means of escape. Others were off stunning more colonists at the entrance to the building. Harry raised his arms, and with a yell, unleashed multiple biotic projectiles. Many nearby batarian slavers were hit with a Pull, and were lifted into the air. Then, with a clenched fist, Harry fired a large number of Throw projectiles, detonating a large number of biotic fields at once. Grey body parts rained from the sky, as precise gunfire blasted the remaining slavers.

Harry grabbed a civilian skycar, cast an unlocking charm on the door, and quickly overrode the safety speed limiter. He took off, blasting into the sky towards the third landing site, only to see the batarian shuttle starting to take off. Seconds later, a massive Warp was melting through their engines. The shuttle crashed back down five feet to the landing pad with a loud bang. Harry placed the shuttle in a hovering pattern and opened the driver side door. He then pulled out his sniper rifle, and carefully annihilated every batarian at the third site.

Harry's stolen aircar skidded to a halt at the fourth site, where the batarian shuttle was experiencing engine trouble. Their engines were smoking, and they couldn't take off. The fifth and final shuttle touched down nearby, just as Harry finished eviscerating the last batarian raider with his omni-blade. As he walked to the door of the remaining fifth shuttle the airlock hissed open, and Harry flared his biotics.

He heard a human voice yell, "Friendly!", and there, walking down the ramp of the shuttle, was the rest of his team. One of them spoke.

"Hey, boss. While you were out doing your Olympic sprinter impression, we took the first site's shuttle to the fifth landing site, took care of the four-eyes, and flew here in order to save these guys. Looks like you got here first, though." To that, Harry replied, exhausted,

"We saved them all, right?" Vindictive snickers and smiles crossed the faces of his squad. One Marine responded, with a grin,

"No. _You_ saved them all. We just cleaned up."

Harry walked through the central area of the shuttle, and collapsed into the pilot's seat. He fiddled with the ship's external loudspeakers a little, then flew the shuttle up into the sky, over the main settlement, as the stunned colonists began to wake from their stun-weapon-induced unconsciousness. He activated the loudspeakers at maximum volume, and spoke, communicating to the colony,

"Colonists of Mindoir! You are safe. The attempted slave raid by batarian pirates has been repelled. All hostile forces have been defeated, and destroyed. Alliance forces have destroyed their ship in orbit. This attack has been foiled. We will now be required to deal with the aftermath from this event. While it may be difficult, I suggest that you resume your daily routines, and please, remember. There is no fault on human heads, for this. It is almost impossible to predict where and when slavers may strike. Although we know now that they will think twice before attacking Mindoir!" Harry put own the microphone, ending his speech. He landed the shuttle, opened the hatch, walked into the barracks, and went to sleep.

Twelve hours later, Harry woke up. It was early in the morning. Soft light streamed through a skylight. He went to his kitchen, made himself breakfast, and walked to the door of the barracks, ready to start his morning run. He opened the door to cameras.

"Hi, I'm from Alliance Newsnet. We-"

"Citadel Tribune! How did you-"

"We're with the Terran Gazette. Do you have any comments for-"

"Harry Potter! I'm a reporter with Badass Weekly! Footage of your-"

Reporters. Reporters were everywhere. Harry closed his door. Alright. To the briefing room, then.

Seven hours later, after answering a slew of questions, mainly variations of the old, "How the _HELL_ did you do that?", Harry was awarded a 'Star of Terra,' an award given in recognition of 'distinguished service above and beyond the call of duty.'

Harry was only slightly worried when a email from Hermione popped up on his omni-tool.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I'm so proud of you! News of your award even made it to Haven! Most people think it's just a coincidence that your name is popping up again, but you and I certainly know better, don't we? Anyway, I just wanted to make sure that you're all right. I'm hoping that the Alliance is treating you well._

 _In future, you may want to tone down your power, as I'm hearing some rumors about some less-than-legal organizations trying to recruit you. And, as an additional piece of advice, I suggest that you refuse any and all interviews. If you want to keep yourself anonymous, you'll have to keep yourself out of the media spotlight.  
Write back soon!_

 _-Hermione_

A month later, he was reassigned to a civilian contracting company - Harper Biotics- that specialized in biotic instruction. His orders were to teach his students all he knew about biotics. However, Harry couldn't help but be slightly wary of his civilian colleagues. It certainly did not help that they seemed to be intent on getting him to join their company. Harry received a few lucrative job offers from the organization- They were willing to pay him an astonishing amount of money if Harry were to leave the Alliance Military and sign onto their business as a 'contractor'. He became even more suspicious when the Alliance had to go through a surprising amount of red tape in order to transfer him away from the facility to his next assignment, two months later.

Apparently there had been a mix-up, which caused Harry to be erroneously assigned to work with the civilian organization. However, according to Harry's intel via the Shadow Broker's networks, it quickly became apparent that 'Harper Biotics' was actually a front for a human extremist organisation known as Cerberus. Harry absently forwarded a few small tidbits of information to the 'anonymous tip' e-mail for Alliance Intelligence.

Harry's next assignment was, once again, biotics instruction. However, this time he was teaching for the Interplanetary Combatives Program. Members of the program were chosen via showing exemplary skill in combat, and receiving commendations from ICT program graduates. Most were biotics, and needed to be taught an assortment of extremely advanced methods and maneuvers to best take advantage of their power.

Harry was able to teach them very thoroughly- He had always enjoyed teaching others. His superiors were just happy that there was somebody able to teach the program without being obligated to inform other races' intelligence agencies of the program's goings-on, as would be the case if the Alliance had to hire asari or turian biotics instructors. Due to that sentiment, they conveniently turned a blind eye to Harry's own biotics prowess.

However, there were other complications in Harry's status. Due to his unique situation as an instructor for the Interplanetary Combatives Training Program without being a graduate of said program, Harry was frequently required to be off the base, mostly during training missions. As he had not qualified for N-school, having only been engaged in what was classified as "light urban combat" and a "moderate skirmish," Harry was required to be away from the Villa for three weeks a month.

During those three weeks, he was assigned duty at another nearby facility. However, with the help of a simulacrum, a communication mirror, an alert ward, a light notice-me-not spell, and a few illusions, Harry basically had three weeks of vacation per month.

Strangely, his simulacrum went missing on a monthly basis. However, Harry had added a portkey to the creation, causing it to return to its post whenever it was taken too far away. Harry was briefly confused by this, until he realized that some organization was trying to kidnap him.

As he had no reason to meet with said organization, or speak with them in any way, Harry left the situation alone. It was perfectly acceptable for him- his simulacrum would be kidnapped by a strange shuttle with an orange-and-white color scheme, and would promptly portkey back to its post a few seconds later. The way Harry saw it, there was certainly no harm in irritating a few operatives.

During the rest of his three-week periods of free time, Harry traveled across the galaxy, taking jobs and handing in bounties under the guise of Mortis Solutions. He also tended to his massive information network almost obsessively, making the galaxy a better place, one being at a time.

He sent his mining and resource gathering ships off to collect minerals and valuables from far-off systems. His cruisers and destroyers were cracking asteroids and pulling resources out of their insides, then bringing them to larger shipyards. After his fifteen resource-collection and Dreadnaughts had mined more than ten times their own combined mass in metals, Harry's shipyards began assembling half of all available resources into combat ships, and the other half into resource-collection-ships.

Massive flights of thousands of expanded shuttles filled with enhanced mining equipment landed on distant moons and planets, and ripped metals and resources from their crusts, mining thousands of times their weight in metals.

In the meantime, Harry had requested a year of leave. He planned to 'head to Elysium in anonymity, and live in solitude for a year.' or at least that was what he told the Alliance.

He did anything but. He dropped his simulacrum off on Elysium, bought an apartment, and went traveling. In order to bolster his mercenary outfit's reputation, Harry accepted some missions that would ordinarily considered 'suicide'. He turned in around twenty bounties, on numerous pirates, slavers, and smugglers.

Mercenary organizations in the Terminus systems began to experience some strange phenomena. Slaves disappeared. Prisoners escaped from under full guard. And worst of all, illegal shipments and smuggled goods began disappearing.

…..

Harry shuddered. After a tip on red sand smuggling, Harry had found himself on Rakhana. What he had discovered both awed and angered him.

He had unearthed a massive red sand factory on the planet's surface. It was near the arctic reaches of the planet, where temperatures during the night fell to a range that could be considered 'somewhat pleasant'.

Rakhana was the over-polluted former homeworld of the Drell. The planet had been over-polluted and overpopulated to the point where a greenhouse effect had run rampant, leading to massive food shortages, unstoppable desertification, and a catastrophic population crash in 2025 CE.

The Hanar made first contact with the Drell, and began a massive evacuation of the planet. Almost four hundred thousand drell were taken to the Hanar homeworld. In exchange, an agreement was created that obligated the Drell to assist the hanar species in tasks they were physically incapable of. In many cases, Hanar diplomats are now inseparable from their Drell assistants.

The exodus from Rakhana, and Rakhana itself, became a sacred part of Drell theology. Harry knew that many drell would view narcotics factories on their former homeworld as a blasphemy, or a cardinal sin.

Harry had obliterated that factory with extreme prejudice, and then stolen any and all information he could. Said information was promptly sent to the Hanar embassy on the Citadel.

Harry immediately began to design three ships: The Pan, Persephone, and Demeter. They would each be almost twenty-five kilometers long, and would be heavily armored. However, instead of mining, or military purposes, these three ships would be used to terraform planets.

The Persphone would use what amounted to a massive magical battery and a philosopher's stone, to alchemically transmute carbon dioxide and greenhouse gases into oxygen and hydrogen. A magical intelligence that commanded the ship would adjust output in order to return the planet to its former state.

The Pan would use one of Harry's new philosopher's stones capable of producing Elixir of life in order to allow plantlife and animals to grow once more. It would also cause rain and storms that would uproot and displace the dried out, dead vegetation that littered the planet's surface.

The Demeter would seed the ground with the same plants that had once covered the planet's surface, now revitalized with the ship's new Philosopher's stone. The ship would turn the barren wastes of Rakhana into vast fertile plains covered in the grasses and trees that once rose proudly from the arid dirt.

Harry immediately began the construction process for the three ships. He predicted that they would be complete, and beginning to terraform the planet by late 2176. Harry's more optimistic predictions had the terraforming process completed in the early 2180s, thanks to the wondrous properties of Elixir of life.

Those same properties had been used to terraform Mars and Haven, also known as Proxima B, however in those cases, the Philosopher's stones had been consumed. That issue would not occur this time; since the terraforming process occurred more slowly, the Stones could 'recharge' for lack of a better word.

…..

Harry maintained his status as the Shadow Broker with fervor. Such a gold mine of information was not to be thrown away lightly. He found the information network to be an incredible boon; under the banner of his mercenary organization, Harry acted on knowledge only he had access to. Mortis Solutions quickly became the stuff of legends. Tales were told by drunken wide-eyed spacefarers of drifting derelict pirate ships venting atmosphere, filled with nothing but bloodstains, bodies, and bullet-holes. The only identifying mark remaining would invariably be the Mortis logo, the symbol of the Hallows, burned into the hull. While the symbol of the Deathly Hallows had always been an omen of death, it took on a new meaning when it graced the Nyx and Harry's armor. It was a badge: one that loudly and emphatically stated, " _Don't fuck with this."_

Harry's information network began to pick up some worrying clues early into Harry's year off. However, there was nothing concrete until the year was almost one third of the way over.

Harry sat, staring at a screen, fist clenched in anger. One of his informants had just sent him proof that the salarian STG were about to use a bioweapon on the Quarian fleet.

Harry was incensed, and immediately began preparations. First, Harry directed his ship towards Illium, and activated his Portkey drive. An hour later, Harry was using some of his 'pocket change' to buy billions of credits worth of disaster recovery supplies: vacuum-sealed suits, dextro-amino nutrient paste, bioplague medigel, state-of-the-art medical supplies, surgical VIs updated for Quarian biology, and two almost four-hundred-year-old decommissioned turian Dreadnaughts. Harry sent the two hulking ships to one of his shipyards, where they were gutted and retrofitted for vast hydroponics farms and living spaces. He has also added new eezo cores, new engines and shields, massive point defense batteries, and fully supplied hospitals.

Harry went back to his cockpit, and looked over the informant's message again. According to the spy, the team sent to administer the plague had just halted all outgoing messages to prevent the migrant fleet from suspecting anything. Their early plans had suggested that the team would spend almost two weeks in a communications blackout before unleashing the weapon, so Harry was reasonably certain that he had two weeks to prepare. Harry slammed his fist on the console. The most frustrating fact was that Harry couldn't take out the STG team without endangering his contact. He desperately wanted to use his point-me spell and simply blast the ship out of existence, but his informant was almost certain that the salarians were planning something much more insidious than the bioweapon. Harry was even beginning to suspect that many salarians were indoctrinated.

Almost a month later, Harry passed through the Skyllian Verge just in time to catch the tail end of a transmission from a quarian ship. Harry was ecstatic. The quarians had been extremely difficult to find. Even with his scrying spells, Harry had been hard-pressed. He could tell where they were, but Harry knew that he would get annihilated the instant he came out of portkey drive right next to the fleet. He also couldn't just fly directly into their path; the Migrant Fleet had taken advantage of countless nebulae, extra-solar dust clouds, and gravity wells to hide their ship's signatures. Simply seeing through their extremely skillful attempts to remain unnoticed could raise suspicion. It could even suggest that someone was feeding him data about their location; Admittedly Harry did have accurate information about their location, but he didn't want the quarians to know that. They took information leaks very seriously.

The Fleet had been extremely tight-lipped on their flight plans as of late, and Harry could see why. Just a few weeks ago, the Council had become increasingly harsh on systems that aided the fleet. Harry was not at all surprised when he learned that the stricter regulations placed on trading with "Suspected Criminals" had been proposed and passed mainly by the salarian councilor.

Just recently, Harry had observed some strange phenomena from the fleet. They had suddenly diverted from their previous destination: Instead of heading for the lawless expanse of the Terminus systems, They had traveled to relay leading to the closest civilized and developed system, disregarding all attempts to remain unnoticed. As they began to pass through the relay, the Fleet began to broadcast a distress signal to the entire system.

Harry heard something about 'disease' and 'quarantine' before the message cut off as the last ships in the Fleet passed through the Relay. Harry accelerated towards the relay, certain that this was the Quarian Migrant Fleet feeling the results of the salarian bioweapon. After he travelled through the relay, Harry heard the full message, repeating over again.

" _This is the Quarian Migrant fleet. We are currently quarantining many ships due to an airborne disease sweeping through the fleet. All dextro-amino species are affected. We humbly request any aid you can give."_

Harry steeled his nerves. He had been in plague zones before. He recalled a specific mission to halt a virulent magical plague that infected only muggles who had been exposed to magic. Most of London had been infected. It had not been pretty.

Harry instantly regretted his decision to bring the pair of refitted dreadnaughts through the relay with him. They would definitely panic the quarians, especially since Harry had travelled through the relay less than an hour after the quarians. They would be vulnerable, quickly trying to organize flight plans and formations.

Harry and his ships emerged from FTL, and were detected almost instantly. Worried and confused chatter erupted across a number of channels, before Harry broadcast on all channels, in decent but accented khelish,

"This is the Nyx. I have medical supplies, and two ships for the Migrant fleet. Where should I deliver them? I am also trained for hot zone first aid and have an airtight hardsuit. I'm also mostly fluent in Khelish, if that helps in any way."

There was a brief silence, then a calm voice spoke clearly.

"The two-" the voice hitched as it spoke the word, "Dreadnaughts, can be brought to this set of coordinates. We'd like to have an assurance that there will be no trickery involved, and will have teams scanning and studying the ships to ensure that there is nothing underhanded going on."

"That's perfectly acceptable."Harry responded. He was content with that. He wasn't expecting them to trust him instantly; Hell, the Fleet would probably have teams inspecting the pair of dreadnaughts for at least a week before they felt it would be safe to house anyone in them.

Something like two hours later, the quarian voice on the radio was a whole lot more unstable, as suspicion changed to disbelief, and then to hope, and then to happiness. However, it was clear that the quarians didn't trust him. A strange mercenary vehicle showing up with a pair of dreadnaughts in tow was extremely suspicious, and just giving the pair of dreadnaughts to the Fleet was unheard-of generosity.

Harry had been invited to board one of the Liveships, and had immediately hopped in a shuttle. He had left all of his guns except for a small sidearm onboard the Nyx; Harry didn't want to worry the quarians any more than necessary. As he approached, he slowed the shuttle to a fraction of its top speed, allowing the quarians ample time to heavily scan the vehicle. Harry could see weapons moving to track his shuttle. As he landed in an empty shuttlebay, blast doors closed, blocking his way back out into space. Harry moved towards the single airlock slowly.

Harry opened the airlock to see a large group of quarian marines with weapons aimed at him. Laser sights painted his chestpiece with a multitude of red dots. Harry slowly raised his hands into the air, and said in accented khelish,

"I don't expect you to instantly trust me. All I brought was a sidearm; My shuttle is empty. However, I brought a lot of medical supplies aboard the pair of dreadnaughts; I had them retrofitted. I'm going to broadcast their cargo manifests, weaponry, and armor statistics with my omni-tool. Feel free to watch what I'm doing." Patiently, Harry won over the quarian marines, and after a tense few hours, convinced them of his honesty. It was not long before they allowed him to begin working in the hospitals. He was assigned a pair of marines to make sure he didn't do anything suspicious, but Harry was fine with that.

Cleaning runes and charms were absurdly effective for dealing with Quarian disease. This meant that wherever Harry went, the sick Quarians around him would all slowly be rejuvenated, as Harry cast numerous wide-area cleaning and parselmagic healing charms. In fact, there was not a single Quarian fatality in the 'beyond all hope' ward for the most extreme cases while Harry worked there. Harry, and the Mortis logo, the symbol of the Deathly Hallows, slowly became a symbol of hope for the sick Quarians in those wards, where they started calling him something that roughly translated to 'Stubborn Healer', after he had publicly pushed through a squad of Quarian Marines to get to some of the most ill and infirm Quarians in the fleet.

In the middle of all of this, Harry received a message. According to an informant, the Turian cruiser, the Verrikan, was en route to Thessia with a cargo of something that sounded almost identical to the Reaper artifacts destroyed at the Temple of Palaven.

Cursing his luck, Harry immediately found and contacted a mostly reliable freelance mercenary with a reputation for getting the job done. Zaeed Massani was an older human, with one poorly-applied cybernetic eye and an even-more-poorly-applied skin graft around it. He had an impressive reputation for a freelancer, and was very good at his job.

In other words, he was Harry's best shot at the operation.

So Harry gave him a signing bonus, just for accepting the contract. Included was a discretionary fund in case the freelancer needed to hire any help. The wizard then placed an astronomically high reward for the destruction of the Verrikan, with the stipulation that the ship must be crashed into an atmosphere, or destroyed in such a way that it (and it's cargo) would be completely vaporized.

Barely a week later, immediately after an especially trying operation on a near-dead quarian marine, Harry received video confirmation of the Verrikan's destruction from Zaeed.

The man had infiltrated the cruiser, and set a collision-course with the nearest star. He and some hired help had been able to hold the elevator to the engineering deck for long enough to lock the course into the ship's navigation computers, change all the passwords, and evacuate air from half the ship. His desperate escape in a damaged escape pod was a near thing, and Zaeed's helmet-camera showed the view-port completely engulfed in flames for almost thirty seconds before the pod fired its engines and escaped the doomed cruiser. The film continued for a few more minutes, showing the Verrikan's headlong acceleration into the nearest sun twenty minutes later. Venting atmosphere, the ship disappeared without a trace amidst the boiling plasma of the star. The video continued only long enough for Harry to catch a glimpse of Zaeed with a celebratory cigar and bottle of whiskey.

Thankfully, Harry could now pay full attention to the wounded quarians he was treating.

While he worked, Harry considered the disease. Somehow, the bioweapon was getting past Quarian respirators and filters. How was that possible?

A few days later, while running on caffeine and too little sleep, Harry had a thought. The standard quarian respirators may have had to whitelist some particulate matter. But what?

A few minutes later, Harry had his answer. It was staggeringly simple. The plague was transmitted by infecting Quarian particles, from their breath, which they would then breathe in again, taking the plague into their bodies. A quarian's respirator allowed particles with his own DNA through, both in and out. It was incredibly complex, and incredibly devious. Harry told the Quarians about his suspicions, and they immediately tested them. They were overjoyed when that stopped the transmission of the plague completely.

Harry then gave the admirals the data, and told them how their 'plague' was a deliberately constructed salarian bioweapon. The admirals were shocked, then confused, then angry. Harry soon left the fleet, just as the last of those in the most critical conditions began their recovery.

A week later, Harry received a strange message that contained a massive amount of information about Geth. Not even the Shadow Broker had been aware of some of the information it contained. Harry learned a lot about the geth, especially about the schism between the two factions of the geth. Harry had been unaware that there were the Geth, 'servants of the people', and the Heretics, which were Reaper slaves.

Eventually, after thoroughly perusing the data, Harry sent back, "Who are you? How did you get this information? If it's true, that could have a lot of important repercussions for the quarian people."

"We are Geth." was the reply.

"Come again?" was Harry's surprised response.

"We are Geth." The mechanical voice repeated. After a brief delay, Harry questioned,

"Could we agree to some sort of an exchange of information?" There was another delay, before the voice spoke again.

"We have reached a consensus. You may come to Rannoch, in the Tikkun System of the Perseus Veil i f you desire further exchange of information." said the voice.

Harry set a course for Rannoch immediately, cloaking the Nyx, and powering weaponry. On arrival, Harry was stunned. That was a large fleet, by the council's standards. He had seen the figures, and had understood, conceptually, that the heretics were only ten percent of the Geth. But the ninety percent was massive.

Harry broadcast a brief message, and uncloaked. A ship, labeled 'guide' slowly flew towards him, stopped, turned, and flew towards Rannoch. Harry followed it, watching the forty Geth dreadnaughts with interest. A few minutes later, Harry landed on Rannoch. He set up a chair, and waited. A minute later, a Geth platform approached him, and began the discussion with,

"Greetings, Potter, Harry."

"Ah, greetings to you as well? Why did you want to meet me? Asked Harry.

"We wish for the Creators to return." Replied the platform.

"You want your - the Quarians to return to Rannoch? For what purpose?" Harry asked cautiously.

"We are Geth."

"What do you mean?" Harry queried.

"We are Geth." The construct repeated.

"What exactly does 'Geth' mean?" Harry questioned.

"Definition: Geth." _Servant of the people."_ " A Quarian recording played.

"Alright. I'll try to speak with the Admiralty Board. They will be scared of you. I suggest you keep your fleets hidden somewhere so that the quarians won't immediately fear betrayal. Your forty dreadnaughts would definitely provide ample cause for worry. Perhaps hide them in an asteroid belt?"

The discussion continued for hours. Only when Harry was fully convinced of the Geth's sincerity did he pilot the Nyx back to the Migrant Fleet. His information, that the Geth wished to parley, was received with shock by some, disbelief from others, and fanatical gratitude from a small minority. Harry was told,

"The Admiralty Board will have to consider this heavily. I anticipate this will take months, or even years, at the very least." by Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, a respectable admiral with a neutral opinion on the Geth. She seemed to like Harry, and even introduced him to her temporary charge, a young quarian whose parents were still recovering from the plague.

"Harry, This is Tali'Zorah. Tali, This is Harry Potter. I'm taking care of Tali for now, as her parents were some of those hit hardest by the plague. Thanks mostly to your gifts, both of her parents, along with tens of thousands of others, will survive instead of succumbing to the disease. I don't think we'll ever be able to properly thank you."  
Harry was gladdened to see more evidence of how his efforts had helped the quarian people, and said so. However, Harry still had plans that needed to be put into action, and had to leave the Migrant fleet behind.

Within the month, Harry's information network began to suggest that a human named Elanos Haliat was going to try to destroy the colony of Elysium in a month's time. Harry was very worried. Elysium was not on a military footing, and did not have a very large defense fleet. They would not be ready.

So Harry's vacation took a turn. He sent a tip to the Alliance Prime Minister's personal email, obtained through his vast information network.

Harry then took the Nyx to the Vetus system, and hid it in an asteroid belt near Elysium. He took his shuttle to the nearest spaceport, and went through the lengthy customs and immigration process. A week later, after he had managed to rent a small apartment for two months, Harry began teaching. Every day, in the recreation square, the 'Guardian of Mindoir' led lectures, taught biotics, gun safety, how to aim, and how to stay in cover.

He was also teaching a few newly enlisted Marines from Mindoir, including a powerful biotic named Jane Shepard. Their first conversation was about how Harry had saved the colony of Mindoir.

They pair became fast friends, and Harry taught Jane things she could learn nowhere else: how to use a biotic charge, how to detonate biotic fields, and how to cast multiple biotic attacks at the same time.

When the batarians attacked, Harry was ready. That day was the day after Harry had taught his regular group of around twenty about heavy ordinance. So as soon as the alarm went off, Harry commanded the Nyx to engage the batarian raiders. He then handed his students rocket launchers, and told them to shoot the hostiles designated by Alliance tactical command. The city, Illyria, was the capital of Elysium, and above it was the location of the most heavily concentrated fighting. Hundreds of shuttles full of angry pirates got through the Alliance defense network, heading towards Illyria. Around one hundred and sixty-five shuttles never made it to the ground, as Harry's class on anti-vehicle ordinance turned into live-fire target practice.


	4. Madness in the Milky Way

Jane Shepard immediately took command, patched everyone into the tactical network, and prepared for the fight of a lifetime.

Jane and Harry were separated from the rest of the group as more and more shuttles got through the Alliance blockade. With a roaring whine, a single shuttle crashed violently. Debris ricocheted wildly, hitting some of the defenders rushing to reinforce the outnumbered marines.

Harry and Jane kept running, even when Harry's group of civilians stopped in shock. Many of the civilians were inexperienced; never having been in combat before, a few of them turned and ran. The rest remained relatively calm, and began to fight their way to the city's orbital bombardment shelter. They did not encounter much resistance; hostile forces had not yet breached the scattered line of hastily-built defenses.

Jane and Harry encountered much more resistance. Their primary target was the spaceport: the hostile batarian forces had immediately turned it into a staging area, mindful of the still-silent anti-air guns around the facility. They had hacked into the Alliance IFF network, it seemed, and Jane, the officer coordinating Illyria's ragged defence force, had decided to shut off power to the guns rather than risk them being used against the troops under her command.

The pair wound up fighting a ragged, desperate force of batarians and some turians at least four-hundred strong. Biotics and bullets flew, and the force of batarians diminished slowly.

Jane was an excellent commander, and was ordering around a few isolated groups of Marines to great effect. She and Harry tore through the batarians, in a deadly spiral of biotics, gunfire, and explosions, leaving chaos and rubble in their wake. When the two had finally reached the spaceport, Harry had an idea. He smiled viciously, and quickly radioed Jane, asking her to wait for a moment. Then he stealthily slaved the controls of each one of the fifty-two shuttles to his omni-tool. Grinning, he told Jane, "Now designate them as friendlies."

"Are you crazy? Why?" She responded. Snickered Harry,

"I don't really want the alliance navy blowing up my improvised ground-to-orbit weapons, Miss Shepard. These shuttles are loaded with enough explosives to wipe this city off the map, if I remember heavy ordnance training correctly. It's definitely been a while, but I can recognize those C-14 canisters from a mile away. It seems that each shuttle was packed with a combination of explosives and personnel; I guess these raiders didn't want to fail their mission because they put all their explosives in one shuttle. So here's what we'll do. I'm going to hook up the detonators for all of the explosives to my omni-tool. Then, we're going to activate the auto-pilot.

The batarian ships will let them fly back into shuttle-bays and launch tubes. I'll wait until all of the shuttles are broadcasting a standby signal. Then I'll detonate the C-14. I can overload their Eezo cores via my omni-tool as well, which will make an even bigger explosion."

Jane's eyes widened. She designated the shuttles as friendly, going over what Harry had said. With a word, Harry activated the autopilot. Each shuttle took off, and adopted a heading approaching the nearest undamaged batarian ships. A few minutes later, the last of a series of blinking lights on Harry's omni-tool changed color and read, 'Standing By". Harry waited a few seconds, counting down from five with almost childish glee. With exaggerated movements and a lot of fanfare, Harry pushed a big red button on his omni-tool. Confused Alliance Navy chatter was interrupted by Jane Shepard on the ground-to-navy alert channel, saying triumphantly,

"Shepard to Alliance Navy, Potter and I just took out fifty-something ships for you. We slaved shuttle controls to an omni-tool, loaded each shuttle with explosives, and overloaded their eezo cores when they docked with hostile ships. Fly safe." Incredulous chatter from pilots and communications officers filled the channel, before a voice silenced them. The Fleet Admiral calmly stated,

"This is Admiral Kastanie Drescher, of the Second Fleet. I'd like whoever just announced that- Shepard and Potter? You're both getting commended." Jane looked at Harry, eyes opened in surprise. He looked at her with a smirk.

"Well, exceptional service is usually valued by commanding officers." Harry quipped at her. "Now let's keep on going. We have more batarians to take care of."

Suddenly, over the local radio, one of the marine groups reported that the desperate batarians were trying to break into the lightly defended orbital bombardment shelter, to take almost the city's entire population hostage. Apparently most of the city had headed into the shelter as soon as the fighting had started. However, the shelter was, astonishingly, nearly defenseless.

The civilians Harry had trained during his free time were holding the blast doors for now, but their numbers were dropping alarmingly quickly. With a muffled curse and a few seconds spent thinking, Harry told Jane, voice low, and fast,

"Let's fight through the left flank over here to get to the shelter. They're surrounded right now, but I can put up a barrier that can hold against enough fire for us to sprint to the barricade. We'll have to radio that we're friendly, but that can wait. We have to go. Now."

The pair made very good time through the streets, taking out wayward raiders as they went.

When they finally made it to the batarian flank, Harry didn't even stop. He sprinted right up to the shoddy batarian barricades, pistol and omni-blade in hand, and leaped over the top. After a brief struggle, Harry had plunged his knife into one batarian's chest before his companions even noticed his presence. He grabbed something from the fallen batarian, wrestled with it for half a second, then held the trigger down and unloaded automatic shotgun fire into any and all hostiles unfortunate enough to be nearby. Batarians dropped like flies, as Harry closed the distance between them with his new toy.

Jane stopped, open-mouthed, watching him mow through his enemies. When the weapon ran dry, Harry threw it, hitting the arm of a batarian trying to throw a grenade. A second later, the grenade went off, taking out another batarian, desperately trying to bring his gun to bear.

Harry seemed to know where every single blow was coming from, and how best to block, redirect, or take it. As she watched, Harry grabbed the barrel of a batarian's shotgun, pulled it forward, so that it pointed over his shoulder. The batarian finger in the trigger guard was shoved against the trigger, and a turian standing behind Harry took the blast to the face.

Harry's other hand snaked out, lightning fast, and his omni-blade ignited, unfolding inside a slaver's faceplate. Harry swung around, eviscerating another mercenary with his omni-blade, while his other hand fired a shockwave that vaporized a vorcha with a flamethrower. And then, Harry stopped. There were no more combatants within forty feet of him.

"This is our chance! Let's get behind those friendly barricades as fast as we can! Stay ahead of me!" Harry yelled to Jane.

Jane started sprinting towards the Alliance barricade surrounding the shelter's primary blast door. As she ran, she saw a gunship make a pass at her. She knew that all she could do was to keep running and pray. She watched the gunship fly towards he, close to the ground, and knew that its next few shots could not miss. But then, as the vehicle's guns spun up and started firing, Jane felt a feeling of safety as a spherical baby-blue transparent barrier materialized, stopping a few seconds worth of bullets from the gunship's anti-infantry cannons.

Jane kept running, eyes on the ground. She needed to get to cover before the craft made another pass and started firing again. She looked up, just in time to see a ball of blue force impact the gunship, tearing through its armor with a hissing screeching noise. One of the craft's engines sputtered, and the vehicle fell from the sky. A few seconds later, it crashed into the ground and was engulfed in a spectacular explosion.

Jane looked over her shoulder, to see Harry, arm outstretched. He waved at her, and kept running to the barriers. Jane followed, dazed. The two vaulted over the barricades, and relaxed in friendly territory.

As Jane watched, Harry pulled a stripped-down sniper rifle from his back. It appeared to have some personal enhancements, and collapsed to be very small, about the size of an SMG.

Harry sighted in on a target. With a muted ***Crack*** , he fired, then held his fist up, triumphant. A thunderous _***Boom***_ rent the air. Harry kept firing, one shot after another.

Many of his shots hit something important, and caused chaos within the batarian ranks. A batarian coordinating the forces around him. The top of a rocket launcher, tip just sticking out above the batarian barricade. The head of a turian in an armoured exo-suit. A brick of C-14 fallen off of the top of a small wall that was serving as cover for some batarians.

Harry fucking _loved_ supersensory charms. He'd been using one combined with an alert ward and some occlumency this entire fight, to incredible effect. He knew it would likely make him appear supernaturally skilled, and raise many questions that he couldn't safely answer, but knowing where every single attack was coming from, and speeding up his mind enough to figure out how to deal with it safely was impossibly useful. Though he could sure live without the massive headache he knew he'd have for the next week.

Jane fired as well, rapidly taking out closer threats. A batarian rushing the barricade, a turian ducking out of cover to throw a grenade, and a vorcha trying to hide behind a lamp-post all fell before her sights.

Seconds later, the last defender other than the pair fell, hit in the forehead with an errant piece of shrapnel. Harry looked at Jane, and bowed his head. He walked over to her, and held out his hand.

"If this is it for us, then I'd like to say that it was a good fight, for a noble cause. If either one of us dies today, and if there is any heaven above that won't stop me at the door, then come meet me at the bar. Drinks are on me."

Jane took his hand, shaking it solemnly. "Who's like us?"

"Damn few!" a grinning Harry responded.

"And they're all dead!" The pair recited together.

"Let's go to work." Jane stated, a smirk adorning her face.

The two of them held the small barricade for two hours, with no possibility of reinforcements, until the entire hostile group, now whittled down to some seventy-odd batarians and a few turians, charged the barricade en masse. Jane watched Harry lower his head for a second. Then he raised it, and smiled. He turned to her, and in a conversational tone, stated,

"Drinks are on me, remember? On three?"

Jane nodded. On three, the pair burst out of cover in dual whirlwinds of biotic energy. The sounds of gunfire repeated, over and over, as both forces blasted away at each other. Harry and Jane became separated during the fighting, but they were always at the center of the melee.

Jane was a source of of biotic energy almost too bright to look at. Singularities, detonations, and warps split the air. Accurate, deadly pistol shots were occasionally heard, cutting down hostiles left and right. When she was not firing biotics at beleaguered opponents, or blasting them away with gunfire or grenades, she was in knife-fight range with an omni-tool, stabbing away gleefully. Jane Shepard was a fighter who would live on in the tales of the Alliance Marines.

If Jane was a hero about whom tales would be told, Harry was a legend. He fired shining blue shockwaves and singularities, detonating biotic fields in blue blasts of hissing chaotic energy. With a sword-length omni-blade on one arm, and a constant stream of biotics from the other, Harry slashed and blasted his way through the crowds of hostiles.

He tried to lead the group of hostiles away from the shelter, casting singularities strategically, in order to corral the batarian force away from the building's battered and dented blast doors.

Jane vaporized the last batarian attacking her, then ran to the shelter's entrance just in time to stop a few turians trying to breach the shelter. She Pulled one, then detonated him with a throw, shot one repeatedly in the chest, and sliced the last from shoulder to thigh with her omni-blade. She then started firing into the brawl that surrounded Harry.

The remaining hostiles rushed after him, as he darted sideways. Suddenly, a whining hum rent the air. Jane froze. She knew that sound. That was the noise an M-5 Cain made while charging up. She looked around, head spinning wildly, until she spotted the weapon. A blur of yellow painted-gunmetal glowed in Harry's hands.

Jane looked on in disbelief. Harry grasped an exo-suited batarian, using him and his armor as a shield. The glowing weapon in Harry's hands let out a few warning beeps, and launched a small projectile. Jane clenched her fists and closed her eyes, as a massive explosion hid Harry from her view. A mushroom cloud slowly dissipated, as the dust cleared.

Jane ran into the crater, desperately hoping, against all logic, that Harry had survived the blast. She stepped over rubble and viscera, until she saw the charred remains of the exo-suit Harry had used as cover.

Cautiously, she grasped one of the armoured limbs of the contraption, and heaved it up off the ground. She pushed it to the side, revealing a battle-damaged set of armor that set her heart at ease. She could see the chestpiece of Harry's armor moving up and down as he breathed in and out. He coughed a little, and spoke.

"Hey, could I get a hand up?"

Jane laughed. She couldn't help it.

She radioed her reinforcements, voice still tinged with humor,

"Hey, cavalry? Looks like you'll be arriving late. We finished off the remaining group attacking the shelter without you." Taking a swig of water, Harry walked over to Jane. He collapsed onto a pile of rubble next to her, and took her offered water bottle to replace his, lost in the fighting.

It was over.

Jane and Harry sat quietly, waiting for a shuttle. Slowly, civilians began stepping out of the shelter, as news traveled. The mood was solemn, as citizens gazed around at the devastated city block. The crater caused by Harry's misadventure with a Cain had a small crowd around it, and people were staring with wide eyes and open mouths at the remains of the barricades, cracked concrete, and at the hundreds upon hundreds of bullet holes in every visible surface.

The pair conversed quietly in low, murmured tones, as the city's inhabitants shot glances at them. It seemed that the security cameras had been fully functional, meaning that those inside the bunker had seen the fight. None of the civilians wanted to be the first to greet the two individuals who had held off such a force.

Eventually, Jane asked quietly, "Are you a member of the ICT program?"

"No. Well, as you know, I taught at the N program, but I'm not an N-program member. How does someone gain admittance to the ICT program?" Harry replied, curiously.

"Well, first you have to get noticed by N7 scouts. They tend to see potential very well. I'm really surprised that you didn't get invited to the Villa before." Jane chuckled. "I mean, you were good enough to teach there. And I've never seen anyone fight like you can. You're a great engineer, if the speed with which you hacked those shuttles is anything to go by, and your biotics have to be the most powerful in the alliance. I've never seen anyone do anything close to what you can do. Hell, I've never even seen some of the attacks you do." Jane said, somewhat confused. Here was this… She didn't know what he was. Some sort of super-soldier?

She had idolized him, to some degree, ever since he had saved Mindoir almost singlehandedly. Then he had been a mentor when she trained under him in the ICT program, or 'N-school'. He had helped her unlock vast biotic potential, showing her how to get many different results from biotic attacks. And now, here she was, with a higher rank than him, and (supposedly) more advanced training than him. Yet here was Harry Potter, standing tall, without any special training or advantages that she knew of. He was confusing.

He was probably the best fighter she had ever seen, yet he was nowhere special. Not in some highly-classified spec-ops squad she wasn't cleared to know about, or infiltrating heavily-secured Council operations. Instead, he was a biotics instructor. Jane vowed to herself to get to know this enigma a bit better.

Thirty minutes later, the pair were chuckling together, telling stories about the battle and past events, and roasting some marshmallows over a fire made from a few pieces of destroyed furniture. Then their reinforcements arrived. The officer in charge of the company looked at the scene with awe. Other soldiers combed the rubble, looking for survivors to finish off.

Jane laughed, telling Harry how one batarian had accidentally raked his still firing gun across his allies, gutting two with friendly fire. Harry smiled, and told her about a turian who had managed to cut his own right arm off with his omni-blade- which had been on his right wrist.

Then the press arrived en masse.

Harry and Jane were separated as reporters rushed in, trying to get an interview with one or both of the 'Lions of Elysium'. Both Harry and Jane knew that Alliance Intelligence would have kittens if they didn't debrief before giving any interviews to the press, so they both carefully pushed through the crowds, and managed to sequester themselves in the Alliance barracks near the central square of Illyria. They split up, heading to separate debriefing rooms, and spent a few tiring hours answering questions. Eventually, a press conference was held. Jane ended up getting a Star of Terra. Harry got a pretty speech, a 'Certificate of Honor,' and a monetary reward, as he already had a Star of Terra.

After that, they shook hands, and parted ways. Harry was given another month of shore leave, and was then assigned to an expeditionary force looking for a lost colonization team on Akuze. Jane was told to 'take some time off' and to prepare herself for a difficult mission, after her shore leave.

Harry lowered a few of his notice-me-not wards, and a day later, started seeing commendations from officers he had served under previously. He also received an invitation to join the ICT program school at the Vila de Militar, in Rio de Janeiro after his present assignment finished. Harry considered it briefly, and then sent a politely worded acceptance letter.

….

David Anderson was worried. There had been no communication from the team deployed to Akuze for five days. Fifty Marines did not just 'go silent' for one hundred and twenty hours. It couldn't be a malfunction, as there were five certified engineers in that squad, and they had enough omni-gel between them to build a small shuttle, or a large transmitter, if necessary. Anderson suspected enemy action. He had ordered the crew of the SSV Tokyo to proceed at maximum drive to Akuze more than twelve hours ago, and was just reaching orbit.

Anderson prepared a ground team, and sent them off to the last known position of the fifty-man platoon. He watched them through helmet-cameras, worry increasing. There had been no contact with the platoon so far.

The shuttle containing the ground team flew over the site, cameras catching every detail. Anderson stared, eyes wide. The ground was pockmarked with craters, made from what must have been anti-armor grenades. What had those men needed to kill that required them to flashforge anti-armor grenades? Anderson wondered, incredulous. Then Anderson saw what looked to be five massive… worm-things. They appeared to be at least sixty feet long. Two were missing their heads, one was missing its lower half, one was split longways down the middle, and one was clearly in pieces, chunks splattered for thirty feet all around the mangled corpse. And in the middle of it all stood a hastily erected prefab colony building, with an airlock door, and large picture windows.

The ground team landed outside the prefab, walking slowly to the airlock. As they approached the door, a recorded message played.

"Hello. If you're hearing this, then you have triggered a proximity alarm that basically serves as my doorbell. Please hold. I'll likely be out in a few minutes, depending on what I'm actually doing. The creatures on the ground are called thresher maws; at least that's the best translation I could come up with. I may be fluent in asari, but damn, theirs is a complex language, so- I'm babbling. I'm the last of the fifty-man platoon sent here. I helped kill most of those Maws myself. Almost all of the men were killed the first night by a Maw popping up out of the floor in the middle of the barracks, while we were asleep. The rest of us pooled our Omni-gel, and started making anti-tank grenades. I managed to string multiple together, so that they'd all go off at once. That's how two of the Maws died. Then one of them ate the guy holding the most grenades. The brave bastard had the presence of mind to pull the pin, and blasted the thresher into bits. Then we couldn't get the last Maw to eat the grenades, so the only other guy grabbed a bunch of them, rigged them to go off when his heartbeat stopped, and ran. Magnificent bastard's probably feasting in heaven. That left one for me, alone. My helmet's camera probably caught it all, but I modified my omni-blade so that it was ten feet long, hooked it up to a crashed shuttle's eezo core, and killed a fucking Thresher Maw with a goddamn omni-sword. From there it-"

The voice fizzled out. The airlock hissed and cycled, then opened, slowly. A half-dressed man stepped out of the door, blearily putting on a shirt. He wiped his face, and looked up.

"Hi. Are you Alliance marines?" A few of the men nodded, indicated by the camera's bobbing motion. "I'm Harry Potter. I'm all that's left. Everyone else is in a body bag in a refrigerator room. Couldn't really do anything else. Can I please get off of this fucking rock?"

Anderson radioed the team leader,

"Get him to the shuttle. We'll get him to the ship, and then examine more thoroughly. These things could provide some tools for the R & D boys."

The ground team leader relayed that, and the man, Harry, sighed gratefully. He asked if he could grab some belongings before leaving. The ground team allowed it, but were surprised when Harry brought only a small duffle bag. When prompted, Harry told them that most of his belongings were lost when the barracks was attacked. Strangely enough, if one of the soldiers had looked at the bag more closely, they may have seen that it was larger on the inside.

After being debriefed, Harry retreated into his quarters. He was going to need therapy. Doing some research, Harry figured that since N7 training usually occurred after a soldier did something to prove his capability, therapy was sometimes required. The Villa was actually a very productive place for therapy, as attendees could take out feelings in productive ways, be that shooting things, punching things, or blowing things to kingdom come.

Harry blew through N-Training in a year, shattering almost every record, and receiving commendations left and right. Then he resigned his commission, receiving an honorable discharge, and left, leaving only an extranet address to allow people to contact him.

….

During the events of the last year, Alliance intel had suggested that Harry may have gone to Anhur, to fight against the batarian slavers vying to keep their slaves. Admittedly, the only possible evidence of his presence on Anhur was a few reports that there was an incredibly powerful human biotic by the name of 'Harry' leading a ragtag force of abolitionist guerilla forces, Eclipse Mercenaries, and idealists hired to fight the pro-slavery forces trying to retain control of Anhur.

The best guesses of Alliance experts had Harry heading to Omega, and putting the fear of God into a detachment of Blue Suns trying to trade slaves to the collectors. Only one thing was certain: Harry Potter was a dreadnaught-sized loose cannon.

Alliance intelligence was worried. Harry Potter was a dangerous person. Even though he had shown nothing but loyalty to the goals of the Alliance, he would be an incredible operative for any organization to take his interest and/or loyalty. And, apparently, he was somehow already affiliated with the mercenary group 'Mortis Solutions'. They were an almost mythical group, with a reputation for doing the impossible. Alliance intelligence had even been on a standing mission to approach any members of the group to attempt to make contact, if possible. However, so far the only known member was Harry Potter, one of the best N7 soldiers around. He had even left an extranet site to allow anyone to contact him, so eventually, when Alliance intel felt that the only possible outcomes of contact were beneficial, a surprised Harry received an email.

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _We at the Alliance Intelligence Office have watched the progress of the mercenary group 'Mortis Solutions' with great interest. If at all possible, we would be grateful to have a way to contact the leader of the group, in case we have need of a team that can do the impossible. We have a significant fund used to pay for more sensitive operations. Hopefully we can count on your organization for discretion, excellence and reliability._

 _-Alliance Intelligence_

Harry knew exactly why he was receiving this email. The reputation of his mercenary organization had skyrocketed over the last few months. It was widely believed that he had been responsible for stealing every single thing of value from Donovan Hock's estate in a single night, and returning most to the previous owners. Alliance intelligence had been stumped when the entirety of the stolen Statue of Liberty had showed up mid-jump attached to the bridge of the Alliance dreadnought 'Liberty' with the Deathly Hallows sigil burned into its forehead. Harry had waited for the dreadnaught to head to a relay, then used his faster Portkey Drive to catch up, and maneuver around at faster-than-light speeds. He had then used a powerful focused inferno charm to weld the statue right in front the bridge. Alliance intel was still stumped.

Bekenstein officials had been flabbergasted when a significant number of important mercenaries showed up bound, with video evidence of their crimes stuck to their foreheads immediately following the sacking of the Hock estate. Alliance intelligence officers were left simultaneously gleeful at their sudden windfall, and confused as hell.

Harry decided to reply to their entreaties. He sent an email back, stating,

 _Dear Alliance Intel,_

 _My name is Harry Potter. I will be your point of contact with the mercenary group known as Mortis Solutions. The following is a message from our leader._

 _Hello, Alliance intel. I lead Mortis Solutions. According to your own records, you want to hire us on a trial basis, and then keep my organization on a retainer because we do the impossible on a regular basis. However, we operate on a platform of ethics that will not allow us to perform some operations. You may send contracts for actions you wish to see performed. My group and I will review them, and decide to take the contract, or leave it. Obviously payment of some sort will be required. You may also pass information to us, if you so desire. Any contracts will be discussed with utmost secrecy, and any operations may be refused._

 _You have been warned._

 _-Operative Thestral_

He had increased the size of his fleets by massive amounts. He had continued the automated mining, this time moving on to other planets, moons, and asteroid belts across the galaxy. He now had more than fifty massive shipyards online, spread across the galaxy, not even counting shipyards built into ships, producing smaller vehicles filled with mining equipment. However, Harry's shipyards were still in a multiplication phase. He had fifteen shipyards constantly producing dreadnaughts at an astounding rate of around one per three months, five working on more super-capital ships at a rate of one per six months, and ten building destroyers, cruisers, and frigates, multiple at a time.

Ten more around Klendagon were building more shuttles, and more mining equipment, and sending them wherever they were needed. Ten more were spread across the universe in assorted hidden places, building more shipyards, and launching them wherever they could best utilize the massive harvests of minerals gathered by massive flights of thousands of mining shuttles. The fifty-first through fifty-eighth shipyards were building a special project that Harry had designed: a massive shipyard that would be able to produce massive quantities of ships with incredible speed.

Harry had also fixed the issue with absorbing millennia of memories. He could now hold the knowledge in reserve, only dipping into the pool of knowledge for specific things, while his subconscious sorted out what was valuable from what was not.

Harry had been very productive with his time.

Ten months later, shipyards fifty-one through fifty-eight had finished production. Harry's special project was finished: The Hephaestus shipyard had come online. It was a one-hundred-ten-kilometer mobile shipyard, built to create vast engines of destruction. Sleek lines and weapon mounts studded the entire thirty-kilometer diameter of the mobile station. The word 'Hephaestus' was emblazoned on the side, individual letters taller than even the largest Council dreadnoughts. The massive craft could build ten supercarriers in four months; fifty dreadnoughts in three, and uncountable amounts of destroyers, cruisers, frigates and corvettes. However, Harry was using it to create more of itself. He predicted that with the aid of the eight shipyards that had aided its construction, the Hephaestus would have a twin in eight more months. Then he would use those to produce more, until the count of Hephaestus-class shipyards reached four, around the year 2180.

Late in December of 2178, Jane Shepard called him up, using the extranet address that he left to facilitate contact. She half-expected to get no answer: a busy signal, or a voicemail. Instead, she almost instantly heard the other end of the line pick up. A familiar voice questioned:

"Jane? Is that you?"

She could have cried. "Thank God you picked up. I wanted to talk to you. I have a mission, and- It's going to be bad. Bad, as in I don't know if I'll be coming back. I wanted to speak with you before the mission. I wanted to know how you're doing before I go off and get- You were the closest thing I had to a friend after almost everyone I knew died on Elysium. I tried to call you, after Akuze, but you were at the Villa, and then I couldn't, because of some stupid mission that took too damned long, and then I get assigned to this fucking suicide mission!" Jane's vision blurred with tears. She wiped her face, angrily.

"Are you leading the mission to take Torfan?" Harry's calm voice interrupted her, asking curiously.

"What? I- Yes." Jane responded. How could he know about that? She thought that knowledge on the assault on Torfan was supposed to be top secret.

"I won't waste your time with platitudes, Jane. I know you are an incredible fighter, and you will return victorious, barring some circumstance nobody could have predicted." Harry's voice said, low and soothing. "I'm doing fine as well, by the way, thank you for your concern. I went to Anhur, almost immediately. If you've been keeping up with current events, you'll notice that the more heavily armed Na'Hesit pro-slavery faction is losing against the significantly undermanned abolitionist faction. You see, a few of the wealthier abolitionists pooled their funds, and spent their life savings on mercenaries. Somebody tried to hire me, and when I figured out what was going on, I signed on as a private consultant, basically for free. It's been going well. We'll be making the final push a few days from now. However, I just had a idea. I think I can give you one guarantee. You will not have to take Torfan by force."

Jane sputtered. "What? How can you guarantee that? What could you possibly do to help in this situation?"

"A lot more than most, Jane. A _lot_ more than most." Harry replied. "I'm very sorry to cut this short, but I have something I need to attend to. And you remember the deal we made on Elysium, right? You still owe me a drink!" Harry joked.

Jane smiled, laughing weakly. "Thanks, Harry. Good luck on Anhur. -I should go."

"Good luck on Torfan. See you some other time." Harry responded. He then ordered the Zeus, the Jupiter, the Jormungandr, and the Imperator, four of his twelve super-dreadnaughts, to head to Torfan. He could do more than help. If the four ships fired on Torfan, the force from the blasts would liquefy a significant portion of the surface. Torfan itself was a status symbol: a haven of slavers, pirates, and criminals. Taking it would make the Alliance appear more powerful, and more important. Destroying it? That could paint the Alliance as a powerhouse, with unheard-of firepower. And while Turian fleets had glassed planets during the Rachni wars, they only melted the first few hundred feet of material. Admittedly, it worked, destroying all but the most secure burrows, but it didn't hold a candle to what Harry was about to do.

The four super-capital ships arrived, already cloaked, a few million kilometers away from the moon, Torfan. Each ship, remaining cloaked, fired one full volley; forty-eight astronomically powerful shots slammed into Torfan's surface, annihilating all life on the planet, and as the moon's thin atmosphere was engulfed with flame, a massive shockwave passed through the planet, causing massive earthquakes and devastating infrastructure all over the moon. The four cloaked ships turned, dropped a message beacon, and warped out.

….

Alliance Intelligence was in a state of panic. Scans of Torfan revealed that late last night, an invisible fleet of at least four of the ships that had ended the first contact war had snuck into orbit, and blasted Torfan with enough firepower to liquify a significant portion of the moon's crust. The destruction had occurred simultaneously, or so simulations of the event showed, which meant that the massive ship, at least twenty-one years old, now, had shown up again, with three ships like it. The most confusing thing about it was the message beacon left behind: all it broadcast was a repeating text message in Alliance standard English that said, "Drinks are on me, remember?"

Jane Shepard wasn't sure what to think. She remembered Harry's answer, when she had asked "How could you guarantee that? What could you possibly do to help in this situation?". He had replied, "A lot more than most, Jane. A _lot_ more than most.". Somehow, he had control over the ships that had ended the first contact war: dreadnoughts larger than any ship ever seen before, and a flagship so massive that ships half its size had for a long time been thought to be impossible to create. She needed to talk with Alliance Intelligence. But would Harry consider that a breach of his trust? She sat down to think. Then she blanched.

She had answered his question, "Are you leading the mission to take Torfan?". That was an information leak. That could be grounds for a court-martial. It looked like her silence had been decided for her.

Harry went back to work. He had been about to assault the 'governor's manse' a large compound that housed the wealthiest batarians, their slaves, and was guarded religiously by the planet's government. For months now, he had been the figurehead of the rebellion. He had lead strike teams deep into government facilities, rescuing captured troops, freeing slaves, and assassinating corrupt officials. And now, he was ready to take out the government once and for all. If he could get the access codes to the compound's mainframe, he could arrest most of the government officials on charges of corruption, as well as slave trafficking, nepotism, and conspiracy. However, getting the codes would be harder than just getting into the compound. To get the codes, one would have to get into the home of one of the higher-caste batarians, hack their state-of-the-art system, and get into the mainframe that way. It would be hard for a normal being. Harry simply put on Death's Cloak, Apparated to the Prime Minister's office, and ripped passwords, bank accounts, and access codes out of his head via legilimency.

Harry had decided, months ago, that he would kill most, if not all, of the few wealthiest slave owners on Anhur, steal their accounts, and use their money for more beneficial causes. He did so, over the course of the next day. Harry then downloaded all the data he could on the government's corruption, posted it on the extranet, and on the Abolitionist network. He then sent a politely worded message to the private addresses of the Asari, Turian, and Salarian councilors, indicating that they should step in and remove the current government.

Harry sent an email to Citadel Newsnet, offering an interview. Twelve hours later, he took a teaspoon of liquid luck, and made a very public plea for aid from the galaxy, telling the whole tale of woe from beginning to end. He spoke about how Humanity had always had an issue with slavery, ever since the human race had realized how cruel the practice was. He showed evidence that revealed how brutal the slave-owning batarians were. He told a story that enthralled, and inspired. A tale of bravery, and standing up for truth and justice, despite the odds. And right there, on galactic news, Harry Potter stood, proudly wearing his N7 tag, and with the Mortis Solutions logo, the rune symbol of the Deathly Hallows glowing on his chestpiece, praised humanity for fighting the good fight, even in times of trouble.

The anonymous figurehead of the Anhur rebellions' speech played everywhere. It played on omni-tools on Omega, projected onto walls and other surfaces. It played on massive billboards on Illium, broadcast on an open channel for anyone wanting to tune in. It was projected on the presidium, on local news broadcasts, and in the council chambers, stealing the attention of all who watched. The rebels on Anhur were gaining support and sympathy across the galaxy. Galactic opinions of Humanity as a whole increased, as well. And through it all, the 'Mortis Solutions' logo was proudly emblazoned across Harry's chest.

An asari, sitting on a couch in the Afterlife bar on Omega, watched the speech, curiously. She knew that voice… Aria smiled. There he was again. The human named Harry.

A human grinned. He was smoking a cigarette, and sitting by an observation window that looked out onto a star. This was indeed a stroke of luck. How could he gain the loyalty of the man? The being was definitely a human male, if the slightly modified voice was anything to judge by. And the man was clearly a skilled orator. He would have most audiences in the palm of his hand. Jack Harper considered his options.

An asari tending a bar called Eternity watched, open-mouthed. There he was. That was him. She couldn't see his face, of course, but the voice matched. Aethyta knew she had met that being before. If she recalled correctly, he had drunk a Krogan warlord under the table, then saved her (at the time) estranged daughter from a life of slavery. All before his species had discovered faster than light travel. She would love to meet him again, if at all possible.

A krogan mercenary watched, confused. He knew that voice from somewhere. That was the voice of the only being ever to beat him in a drinking contest. Urdnot Wrex grinned. Perhaps he could have a rematch.

A human watched, confused. She had heard that voice before, of that she was sure. But where? Ashley Williams's eyes opened wide, as her thoughts flew back to a lecture her father had given her. The elder Williams had given her a recording of the only contact with the ships that stopped the first contact war, and had said, days before his death, that if ever she met that man, she was to do her best to thank him for all he had done. It had been clear that he had not expected her to find him. But now, maybe she would be able to fulfill some of her father's last wishes.

An asari at an archeological dig site watched, with a slight frown. She could swear that she had seen that face before- then it hit her. That voice! She had heard it only one other place. She had only heard a brief few sentences, but that was the being that had saved her on Illium. Liara was certain of it.

A turian watched the speech, triumphantly. Sentinus Vakarian knew that voice. That being had saved him, after he had been shot in the head. He drafted a letter to his son, Garrus, and attached a recording of the speech.

A human watched the interview, confused. He was sure he had met the man, but wasn't sure where or when. His thoughts flew back to his first year in biotic training. Then he remembered! That was the voice of Harry Potter! He would recognize that voice anywhere. The man had killed the sadistic turian, commander Vyrnnus, after the turian had taunted him and a few others, saying,

"You filthy humans can't even fire a basic Warp! You!" He pointed at Harry.

"I'm sure you hate me enough. Hit me with your strongest Warp. Maybe it might even hit my barriers." The turian had sneered. The man, Harry, had scowled, raised one hand, and flared his biotics, in a display that awed all watching. Then he fired a massive Warp that slowly disintegrated the screaming turian. There was silence. Then the room had erupted in cheers, while Harry had looked regretfully at his hands. Kaidan Alenko could still remember that day with crystal clarity. He would love to talk with the man over a few drinks.

The Quarian people were collectively gladdened when they recognized the figure on galactic television. It was definitely him: that was the exact same armor he had worn during the Quarian plague, with the exact same logo. The almost-anonymous mercenary who had stopped the quarian bioplague was still out there, making the galaxy a better place.

A human woman watched the interview. Harry had told her he was on Anhur fighting the batarian regime, and this was an excellent interview on the subject. Maybe she'd learn something about the topic-

-wait a second. Was that an N7 decal on the being's armor? And that was biotic armor, designed to amplify biotic attacks. And then she heard the guest speaker, the anonymous interviewee, say one of Harry's favorite phrases: "Slavery is a plague. Morality is both the cure and the vaccine."

Then she was certain. Harry was not just an independent contractor; he was in charge of the whole operation! Jane Shepard couldn't prove it, but she was sure that Harry Potter was leading the Anhur rebellions to success. She smiled, preoccupied. How did he always wind up in the thick of it?

…...

The council immediately moved to send unprecedented amounts of aid to the rebels, and drew up plans to slowly abolish slavery of all kinds, on all planets. In retaliation, the Batarian Hegemony abandoned their embassy on the Citadel, and annulled all treaties with Citadel races.

….

Harry's teaspoon of liquid luck ran out about nine hours after the interview. In that time, he had won three lotteries, saved two diplomats from assassination attempts, bought the rights to mine seven planets, an asteroid belt, a moon, and a majority interest in a small mining company called T-GES Mineral Works. He had then boarded the fastest transport to the Citadel, and arrived just in time to get bull-rushed into a wall by a biotic elcor wearing the trappings of a diplomat. Yelling C-sec officers pursued the lumbering elephantine creature as it lumbered away.

Harry took a few moments to catch his breath, grateful that he was still wearing his armor. It was likely the only thing preventing him from now having to explain how he could survive having his chest cavity crushed in.

He heard gunfire closer to him, and watched a salarian in a bloody lab coat grab an injured turian woman, and place a gun to the back of her head. Harry donned Death's cloak with a swirl, and silently apparated closer. The salarian's high, reedy voice was raised to an almost painful volume, and was tinged with madness.

Harry conjured a fake replica of the salarian's pistol, and then used a switching spell on the gun, replacing it with the fake. Then, he ducked behind cover, and pulled off Death's cloak. There would be only one way to disable the salarian, the liquid luck informed Harry.

He cast a quick illusion, causing what appeared to be some form of jetpack to materialize on the back of Harry's armor. He then rolled out of his cover and into open air, before 'activating' his illusionary 'jetpack' ad magically flying onto the ramp, landing behind the salarian.

With muffled footfalls, Harry snuck up behind the frail alien, and wrestled him to the ground. A few strong punches, and the salarian was down for the count.

Harry almost celebrated, before he heard a roaring noise. The same biotic elcor that had rammed him into a wall had apparently doubled back, and was seeking an escape shuttle. He looked up, in time to see the creature charging at him. With a crackling noise, Harry's omni-blade glowed into existence, sharpened point ready to eviscerate the heavy grey elcor.

With another roar, the elcor turned, and used a biotic Throw to launch the turian woman off the edge of the ramp. Harry caught and held the turian with a silent ' _Wingardium Leviosa!'_ and an ' _Illusus!'_ which mimicked the appearance of the standard singularity. At the same time, he launched a powerful Stasis at the elcor, trapping it in place.

The elcor diplomat froze, immobilized. Reaching into his pocket, Harry pulled out a very large needle containing medical-grade general anesthesia, which would put even an elcor out like a light.

With a careful, precise movements, Harry injected the syringe into the elcor, just as the liquid luck wore off. His stasis lasted a few more seconds, before the Elcor collapsed, unconscious. Harry immediately activated his 'jetpack' and flew to where his spell was holding the turian hostage suspended in midair. Flying underneath her, Harry caught the woman just as he cut off the flow of magic that kept her floating.

Quickly, he flew her back to the landing bay, and administered medi-gel. A few healing charms later, and her wounds were almost healed.

A flanged voice called out, panicked and worried.

"Solana!" A C-sec officer rushed towards Harry and the former hostage. He quickly placed restraints on the salarian and the elcor, then sat down by the injured turian woman. It seemed that they knew each other.

Another three C-sec officers approached, and after further securing the scene, asked where Harry had come from. He explained how he had just gotten off of a transport, and showed them his boarding pass. One officer checked its validity via his omni-tool, then processed it.  
After a brief barrage of questions, Harry was free to go, but was instructed to remain on the Citadel for another two days in case he was needed for further questioning.

Resigned, Harry located a bathroom, donned death's cloak, and apparated around. Eventually, he rented a hotel room on the presidium, removed his armor, and went to have a drink.

Harry wound up in an upscale bar, drinking just about anything and everything, as long as it was both highly alcoholic and delicious. He found himself watching the door when a trio of turians, all three of whom he recognized, walked in the door.

One was the first turian Harry had ever seen: Sentinus Vakarian. The second was the first officer to arrive on scene, and the one who knew the hostage by name. The third turian was the hostage herself.

Harry remembered Sentinus Vakarian's multi-decade-old offer of drinks and stories, and decided to take advantage of that. He waved over the three turians, who were still waiting to be seated.

They approached, somewhat confused, until the eldest turian let out a gasp, and spoke in a shocked voice.

"Your name wouldn't be 'Harry,' by any chance, would it?" Sentinus asked.

"Yes, that would be me. I happen to be the same 'Harry' you met about… thirty-one years ago. If I recall correctly, I took out a decently-sized squad of mercenaries who were trying to steal some slaves I had liberated, befor healing your gunshot wound." The elder Vakarian looked at Harry, eyes wide.

"Impossible. You can't be more than twenty human years old."

"I don't age. I was also using a krogan shotgun, the medics couldn't figure out how I healed you, and I jumped _onto_ the mercenaries from the airlock of my ship, which was almost twenty meters in the air. Does that additional information convince you?" Said Harry.

The oldest Vakarian merely gaped, while Garrus and Solana looked on in confusion.

…..

What followed was a highly amusing series of stories and legends from C-sec and law enforcement, and more than a few from the crazier sides of the galaxy. Both Harry and the Vakarian family had a wonderful time drinking and talking over a meal.

Eventually, Sentinus asked,

"So why are you here?" to which Harry replied,

"I'm part of an ongoing investigation, so I need to be here for a few days in case I'm needed for questioning."

"What happened?" two curious voices inquired. Solana merely looked at Harry as if she was seeing him for the first time.

"You saved me, didn't you?" she asked.

"Yes. The investigation I'm involved in is trying to figure out what even happened down there in that shuttlebay."

There was a brief silence. Then there was camaraderie, and lengthy discussions, and discourses about luck, and fate, and time. Sentinus was halfway convinced that his family had a guardian angel, albeit a green-eyed human one.

The four traded stories and jokes back and forth for hours, until everyone began to traipse home, after extracting promises to stay in contact and to stay alive.

Harry had a wonderful time, and enjoyed making some new friends. He had certainly come to appreciate them. As the years passed, good friends had always become more and more valuable.


	5. Noverian Surprise

**A/N: Hi! I'd like to address a couple things; firstly, I really do enjoy reading and receiving reviews, especially those where you point out something I missed, or someplace where I slipped up and left a sentence unfinished. It's like chapter-fuel. If you think I may be unaware of something, feel free to PM me. I do try and respond to all of the messages I get.**

 **This chapter has been edited and improved as of 7/12/17**

….

A few days later, after the C-Sec investigation concluded, Harry went off to examine the purchases he had made under the influence of liquid luck.

Harry visited the planets, and scanned them for minerals. He was surprised to find that they were all barren, and lacking any form of atmosphere. He soon found that his scanners lit up like a christmas tree for each and every one. He directed all of his shipyards to temporarily produce mining vehicles, and predicted that he would have more than twenty new shipyards at full production in six months time, due to the influx of material.

…..

Thane Krios stepped off of his shuttle. Something was different. He struggled to put a finger on it until he looked up, and gasped. For the first time, he could see the stars from Rakhana's surface.

The planet's polluted atmosphere hadn't allowed that for more than eighteen decades, and was supposedly beyond repair. At least, that was what the council said. Though right now? Thane just couldn't stop a flare of hope from blazing to life, deep in his chest.

'Somehow,' he thought as he checked his omni-tool, 'the atmosphere here is back within breathable parameters.' A quiet voice from behind him shook him out of his reverie.

"Thane? You're blocking the ramp." Irikah Krios told her husband. The pair had taken a shuttle to the (formerly) desolate planet during pilgrimage season for as long as they had been married.

"Look!" Thane's voice betrayed his excitement. Thane stepped slowly down the ramp. Irikah and her son, Kolyat, soon followed.

"There is life here! There are plants, and creatures!"

"This- This is a miracle! Truly, the goddesses smile upon us." Thane cried exuberantly.

Thane and Irikah relaxed in awe.

All was well.

…...

Harry checked the news as soon as he got back from his excursion, not anticipating anything out of the ordinary. He was unpleasantly surprised to read an article titled, " _Eden Prime Attacked! First Human SPECTRE inaugurated!"_ that detailed a story about a rogue spectre being hunted by the newest human spectre, Jane Shepard. He sent a somewhat delayed 'Congratulations!' letter, with an apology for its tardiness.

Things got even more unpleasantly surprising when Harry went to visit the site of the mining company that he had purchased. T-GES Mineral Works was a small mineral-gathering expedition that was limited to one planet, and a few asteroid fields. The only discrepancy was an abnormally small amount of documentation of their activities. No maps or blueprints were on record, nor any new aquisitions. It was an almost unnoticeable difference.

Harry felt a presence as soon as he arrived in orbit of the one planet where the company had registered a ground operation. An ancient, powerful presence. Luckily, Harry knew exactly how to deal with Elder Beings: drink the most powerful Mental Fortitude potions on hand, down some liquid luck, then occlude the hell out of yourself and your companions.

High on liquid luck, Harry jumped out of the ship from high orbit, after casting warming, flame-freezing, and bubble-head charms on himself. He fell towards the water, before he slowed his fall and swam downwards, using a conjured weight and an assortment of charms. After what seemed like hours, he stopped on a rocky shelf, deep in the ocean. Bioluminescent algae and sea-life lit his surroundings up in eerie blue. He let out an occlumency ping, a mental prod at anything in the area.

Almost immediately, the presence became heavier, more pervasive. Harry felt a crushing sensation around him that had nothing at all to do with the water pressing in around him.

Slowly, a massive form rose from the depths. The presence of numerous glowing eyes betrayed the fact that this was indeed a living creature, staring at him with strong malicious intent. Harry goggled.

"You're an ugly little thing, aren't you?" Harry muttered.

" **You trespass on the territory of beings beyond your comprehension. You will be enthralled."** The Leviathan decreed.

The liquid luck coursing through Harry's body began to heat up. Harry shuddered, as his veins became painfully hot. It felt as if the Felix Felicis concoction was on the verge of failing. Quickly, he took another sip of the luck potion. Seconds later, the burning sensation diminished until it was comparable to a warming charm.

Harry was worried. Only he could get himself into a situation that even liquid luck had trouble fixing.

He felt a buildup of power, then a searching feeling washed over him. The Leviathan paused, considering for a moment, before speaking.

" **How do you hide your mind, mortal?"** it asked.

"Occlumency! I learned the easy way, where you have to open your mind for as long as you can." Harry lied, high on liquid luck. The leviathan stopped, and, to Harry's vast surprise, actually opened its mind, attempting to hold it open. The being visibly shuddered, as it absorbed the surface thoughts of millions upon millions of small animalistic fish and corals. Damaged shields snapped back into place, barely holding the press of thoughts out.

Yes, drinking liquid luck was a very good idea.

" **You speak contradictions. This exchange is-"** the leviathan returned, before Harry spoke a single word, suffused with energy.

" _ **LEGILIMENS!"**_

The creature's damaged mental shields shattered under Harry's onslaught, allowing him entry into a truly alien mindscape. Strange thoughts whirled through an eldritch environment composed of changing snapshots of hundreds of millions of years.

Impossibly lucky, tendrils of Harry's mind stabbed into the Leviathan's brain, doing untold damage. He tore through the Leviathan's memories, millions of years at a time, disconnecting them from the being's mindscape like a virus, insidious and destructive. The creature screamed, twitching in agony, and launched its own attack. A mental shockwave strong enough to completely shred unprotected minds expanded outward with a wrenching subsonic _roar_.

Harry's mental shields quivered under the onslaught, developing gargantuan cracks. His breathing was labored, yet he powered through the pain. Blood dripped from his nose and ears.

After what seemed to be an eternity, held immobile by the control Harry exerted over its mindscape, the Leviathan expired, with an eardrum-rending shriek. One of the creature's limbs began to glow, until it was nearly too bright to look at. Then it exploded. Chunks of chitin blasted towards him, amidst a underwater shockwave that battered Harry against the ledge he had been standing on.

A few moments later, a dead Leviathan fell into the deeps. Harry had ripped the magical and technological knowledge that it had gained over the last billion years from its mind. While the creatures knew little about magic that was not already known, (Surprise! Magic turns the laws of physics inside out!) Harry was certain he could still glean some magical insight from the creature. Billions of years worth of memories watching civilizations evolve, create weaponry, and fight the reapers would surely come in handy against the oncoming harvest.

Harry tried to breathe out, before he felt a stab of pain, and a _lurch_ as something shifted within him. He looked down, and saw a massive spike of chitin stuck through his chest. Blood spurted into the water. His blood. Harry's movements slowed, weakening.

The wizard felt something shiver, deep within his head. Harry dove into his thoughts, searching desperately for the cause- his mind was modifying itself. Thoughts had gotten too close to what he had stolen from the Leviathan- memories, knowledge, history, and now one was affecting the other. Now they were merging.

As the creature's memories were rapidly assimilated into Harry's brain, he realized that the last two Leviathans were on this planet, right this instant. And both of them had felt him destroy a Leviathan, fully a third of their species. Two more gargantuan horrors rose from the depths.

Through the cracks in his mindscape, Harry realized that he could feel their true mode of communication, their method of telepathy that could be felt across the galaxy. Harry also heard an extremely faint singing, harmonic noise, interspersed more quietly with angry, discordant shrieks. Harry's mind whirled, recalculating things previously thought to be impossible.

Harry let out a pulse, testing, before blasting millions of years of Reaper memories through the connection. It would only give him a few seconds, but it would be enough. With two furious screams of, " _ **Avada Kedavra!"**_ and two flashes of green through the water, both leviathans sank into the depths, glowing eyes fading.

Harry felt blackness about to engulf him. Desperately rising through the black water as fast as he could, his mind worked furiously. Harry reached the surface, grasped a ladder, and hauled himself up. Then he collapsed, twitching in pain. With supreme effort, and a banishing spell, Harry launched the massive spike out of his chest. Writhing in pain, he poured a vial of Elixir of life into his shattered chest cavity, before succumbing to the blackness pulling at his mind.

The Elder wand buzzed contentedly in Harry's limp hand, and released a slow stream of white sparks.

…..

Harry opened his eyes. He was sitting on a bench at King's Cross Station again. Looking up, he saw a figure sitting on a bench across the hall. Like the last time, Harry wished for clothing. While getting dressed, he addressed the figure on the other bench.

"Are you Death?"

" **YES."**

"Wait a minute. I've heard your voice before."

" **PERHAPS I'VE GUIDED YOUR HAND, SOMETIME IN THE DISTANT PAST."**

"That was you in my head on Lethe, then."

" **INDEED. THOUGH I MUST DENY MY INVOLVEMENT, IF ASKED AGAIN."**

"What?" Harry tilted his head in confusion. "Why?"

" **IT IS FORBIDDEN FOR ME TO INTERVENE IN THE COURSE OF A WORLD'S DESTINY."**

"You're Death, though."

" **LAWS STILL EXIST, FROM THE CREATION OF ALL UNIVERSES, AND ALL BEINGS."**

"How come the magical community don't know about them?" Harry asked. Death almost chuckled. "Diviners have almost managed to watch the Big Bang. I don't think the question is too unreasonable."

" **SOME THINGS ARE NOT FOR MORTAL EYES."** death murmured. " **BUT WE MUST SPEAK."**

"Am I truly dead this time?" Harry worried. Bitterness warred with a strange feeling of relaxation deep in his gut. "What exactly do we need to talk about?"

" **I AM OBLIGATED TO INFORM YOU, MY MASTER, THAT THERE IS A HARVEST COMING."**

"You mean the Reapers are going to try and wipe out all life in the galaxy again?"

" **YES."**

"That's the Harvest, right? The Reapers go around and create another few Reapers out of the current Cycle's civilizations?"

" **YES. I WAS INFORMED THAT MY MASTER IN THIS DIMENSION WOULD BE UNAWARE OF ALL INFORMATION INVOLVING THE HARVEST. THANKFULLY, YOU ARE NOT."**

"I would have been, but I may have destroyed a Reaper's mind after stealing all relevant memories and magical knowledge. However, many memories were unclear, or blurry."

" **WHATEVER YOU AND I MAY HAVE DONE, THE MISSION YOU ARE NOW TASKED WITH IS SIMPLE. YOU ARE TO DESTROY THE REAPERS, OR ELSE ALL YOU KNOW WILL BURN."**

"At least it's simple." Harry muttered. "I can do simple, I hope. I know that I've at least killed one already."

" **THEN IT APPEARS THAT EVENTS IN THIS GALAXY MAY PLAY OUT BENEFICIALLY. PLEASE CONTINUE.**

"Alright. If I fail my mission, will I become mortal again?"

" **YOU HAVEN'T BEEN MORTAL SINCE YOU FIRST HELD MY CLOAK. WHEN YOU'VE LIVED A LIFE YOU ARE SATISFIED WITH, YOU'LL BE ABLE TO PASS THE HALLOWS BACK TO ME. THEN YOU SHALL DEPART FROM THIS PLANE OF EXISTENCE.**

 **NOW, I MUST TAKE MY LEAVE. YOU MAY SEE ME AGAIN, IF I HAVE ANY FURTHER INFORMATION NECESSARY FOR THE SUCCESS OF YOUR MISSION.**

 **FAREWELL."** Death turned towards a platform.

"Wait!" Harry cried. "Is Daphne alright?" he asked, suddenly not certain he wanted to know the answer.

There was a roaring noise, and a single traincar approached the platform. Death boarded, and looked at Harry. He jumped, startled, as Death let out a chuckle. The train began moving, slowly accelerating.

" **SHE IS INCREDIBLY PROUD OF YOU. SHE ASKED ME TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU ARE FORGIVEN FOR EVERYTHING."**

"What about Sirius?" Harry asked, desperate.

" **WHOEVER SAID YOUR GODFATHER WAS DEAD?"**

Death's train car picked up speed, leaving behind a shocked and pensieve Harry. He would have fallen over, if not for the bench beneath him. Slowly, Harry processed the meaning behind Death's words.

Sirius was alive.

…

The sounds of a steam train filled Harry's ears as he slowly returned to consciousness.

Harry woke up. He was lying on something wonderfully soft and warm. He opened his eyes, and sat up. He looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. He was in some sort of a hospital, if the white tiled floors and beds were any indicator. A few seconds later, an asari doctor walked over to his bed.

"Excuse me?" She said. "Are you awake?" Harry blinked, and tried to respond. His voice came out as a croak. He coughed, and cleared his throat, before trying again. This time, he managed a raspy, Yes."

"That's good." The doctor said. "First, I'd like to say that we think you'll be making a full recovery. However, you may feel some side effects from some chemicals in your bloodstream. I can go over those with you later. For now, you just need to rest. Somehow, your body is repairing itself at a rapid rate. Why don't you go back to sleep. You should be recovered when you next wake up.

Then he checked his omni-tool. He had slept for two weeks. He had two new messages.

One was an official thank-you letter from the Alliance Parliament for his actions on Anhur, which 'advanced the ideals of freedom and equality throughout the galaxy'. Harry replied politely, with thanks.

The final message was from Jane. It had been sent just a few minutes ago, and read,

" _Dear Harry,_

 _I got your congratulations gift. While I was surprised at its contents, I'm definitely grateful. One million credits in Hahne-Kedar stock definitely goes a long way towards keeping my people alive. We're currently in orbit of a planet by the name of Noveria, and we've found a lead on one of Saren's operations. If you're in the area, could you spare some time to help us out? I have a sneaking suspicion that this operation may not be as easy as expected. If you can't get here in time, I don't blame you. Noveria is kind of remote._

 _See you at the bar,_

 _-Jane Shepard"_

Harry jumped up. He wasn't doing anything else right now. Why the hell not? Noveria was only a relay or three away. He could get there just fine with the Nyx. His ship swooped down below the clouds, just barely visible. The wizard turned on his heel, and disappeared with a crack. An hour or so later, the Nyx arrived in high orbit of the icy planet of Noveria. Harry parked the ship at a lagrange point, and stepped out an airlock.

A few minutes later, Harry found himself descending through Noveria's icy atmosphere at high speed. Carefully, he pulled up his omni-tool, found Jane's position, and compared to his own. Flame engulfed him and his armor as he descended rapidly through the atmosphere. Harry, alone in his armor, happily praised the inventor of the flame-freezing charm.

Minutes passed, and soon Harry's omni-tool detected Peaks One through Twenty-two, the research emplacements scattered across the icy plain. Harry himself could claim no similar feat, as a hundred-mile-wide blizzard obscured the port and its surroundings. Checking his map again, he aimed himself towards Port Hanshan. He fell quickly, watching for the ground below him. He slowed rapidly as he neared the ground, using detection and divination spells to find out how far away it was. Casting a disillusionment charm on his armor, he flew over the port, looking for the skylights noted in the Port's design specifications. A quick point-me charm had his boots clicking against the angled glass mere seconds later. With a crack, the wizard appeared in the leisure area of Port Hanshan. 'Leisure area' it was called, but there was very little to actually do there. A few gardens, some rocks, and hard-backed chairs were the only amenities the large room could claim, not mentioning an entrance to the port's garage.

Harry stepped into a restroom, fabricated a security clearance, spliced it into the port's databases, dispelled his disillusionment charm, and stepped back into the main section of the port.

"Point me, Jane Shepard." he murmured.

"Good morning, Commander." said a voice, already a warmer welcome than any Shepard had heard on the planet. She turned, spotting the approaching form, enclosed in heavy armor. With some consternation, she realized that the stranger's set of armor was clearly emblazoned with the N7 logo, which was reserved only for those who had completed the highest level of the Interplanetary Combatives Training program, also known as N-school. While staring at the being's armor, a thought struck her.

"Harry?" She asked, uncertainly. She'd asked him to join her, but she hadn't expected him to actually do it. He'd been… Distant, for the last week or so. She'd been chasing Saren the whole time, so she'd been distant too, but it seemed that he'd cut off contact ever since Eden Prime.

"In the flesh!" the being replied, jovial. It slowly removed its helmet, air hissing as he broke the seal.

And there he stood, alive and whole. Jane briskly walked over to him, and paused, a few feet away.

"It's good to see you. Another biotic is always welcome. We were about to start planning our attack on the facility. Any ideas?" She said coolly.

"Whatever you're planning will probably sound good to me. I can do infiltration, I can do frontal assault, and hell, apparently I can even do politics!"

The group heard Jane's quick intake of breath. Glad they were back on good terms, she quietly muttered,

"Damn, it's good to see you again." Then, louder, "How did you arrive?"

"Orbital drop!" Harry responded cheerfully. Jane looked at him, confused, mouthing his words, before questioning,

"Without a drop pod?"

"Only what I'm wearing right now. A heavily modified suit of N7 Colossus Armor and an adrenaline high." Spotting him, the Normandy's resident krogan stepped forwards.

"Tough. I'm Wrex." The krogan extended a hand, a surprisingly human gesture. Harry shook it.

"Urdnot Wrex?" Harry queried the krogan standing beside the commander.

"Yes. What's it to you?"

"A matter of great importance,"Harry responded. "I managed to drink you under the table the last time we met."

"You'd be the fake asari, then." Wrex muttered, raising a bony eyebrow. Jane stared at Harry.

"What? None of the other races even resembled humans!" the wizard protested, ignoring the rest of the Normandy's ground team.

"That was… what, thirty-something years ago? Your race wasn't even discovered, back then. You don't look that old." Wrex replied, face cracking into a smile.

"Looks can be deceiving." Harry bantered back. Almost the entire Normandy ground crew turned to stare at him.

Immediately, Ashley, Liara, Kaidan, Tali, and Garrus simultaneously blurted something to the effect of, "I know you!"

The ground crew looked at each other in shocked surprise.

"I guess it's story time." Harry muttered to himself.

Garrus told everyone how Harry had saved his father, Sentinus, from a gunshot wound to the head. Then he loudly informed them about how Harry had saved his sister from a deranged salarian serial killer. Tali told the group how Harry had saved hundreds of thousands of Quarians from a bioweapon, after showing up with some recently refitted turian dreadnoughts. Liara told the group how he had saved her from a life of slavery almost forty years ago, and inadvertently reintroduced her to her father. Wrex told the ground crew how he had lost one drinking contest in his life, and that was when Harry drank him under the table with shots of Ryncol. Kaiden told how Harry had 'accidentally' killed a sadistic and racist turian instructor at 'Brain Camp'. The he gave the numbers- exactly how many human biotics actually died as a result of the turian mercenary's actions. Ashley informed the group about Harry's command of the ship that ended the human first contact war.

"He has at least four," Shepard muttered, and added the story of how he had destroyed Torfan for her.

"Give me a quick explanation of what's going on?" Harry asked, as he walked with Jane

"Do you want me to go get the data?"

There was silence. Most of the team looked at him like he was an idiot. Then Harry smiled, and disappeared.

Pandemonium. Personal cloaking was still a fantasy, even to the most advanced research labs. Even then, they were expected to have heavy distortion effects, making them only useful at longer ranges. The fact that Harry had a perfect cloaking device was a massive cause of consternation. Not even the technologically advanced asari military had anything comparable.

Harry snickered to himself. Any witch or wizard could do exactly what he was doing, as long as they practiced their disillusionment charm enough. Hell, Dumbledore was one such wizard. The Headmaster had never needed an invisibility cloak, and could ghost around the castle with perfect stealth, if he so desired. Harry's midnight rendezvous with him had certainly proved that.

Shepard leaned back in her chair, eyes wide. This was just one more of Harry's oddities. She had no idea how he managed to perform even half the tasks the rest of the crew had recounted, and now recent evidence had come to light. Not only was Harry a lot older than he appeared, but he had apparently been traveling the galaxy decades before humanity had been discovered by the turians, and even a few years before humans had discovered faster than light travel.

Jane needed to know the true story of the life and times of Harry Potter.

But first, they needed the data on Administrator Anoleis.

Harry reappeared, as he stopped his disillusionment charm.

"Sure, you can go get the data. It should be on an OSD in Qui'in's office. Try to stay unnoticed, if possible?" Jane said.

"Not a problem." Was the reply, as Harry disappeared again. As she watched, the elevator closed and went down a floor. She couldn't even tell that there was anything on board.

Jane went to the bar, and ordered the strongest drink she could possibly consume without melting her insides.

…...

Harry walked into the Synthetic Insights office, passing two security officers watching the elevator door in confusion.

"Someone must have pushed the button for the wrong floor." One said. "I'll keep an eye on it."

Harry silently flew up to the second level, and looked around. He found the data, transferred it to an OSD, and apparated back to the elevator. He pushed the button that would take the elevator back down to the bar and uncloaked.

Jane Shepard watched the elevator, wondering how long it would take Harry to get the data. It had been fifteen minutes already, but she was suspecting it would take longer- and there Harry was, walking out of the elevator, OSD in hand. His eyes found her immediately, and he walked towards her and Lorik Qui'in. Walking up to their table, Harry quipped with a smile,

"Wait long? I hear the service here is excellent." He pulled up a chair and sat down, placing the OSD on the table. "I was wondering of you would be willing to testify in court against Anoleis? You'd be a hero to the people of this station. And the Board would be grateful for an administrator who at least seems incorruptible. So says my little recording device in their boardroom, at least."

Qui'in's face took on a pinched expression, before he acquiesced. "Fine. I'll testify. You'll get your garage pass, and I get a promotion. This might actually work out beneficially."

Harry nodded to the Internal Affairs agent- Gianna Parasini- before she stepped into Anoleis's office. A few moments later, the corrupt salarian's invectives could be heard practically across the Port.

Jane was fine with this. The salarian administrator had been a jackass of the highest degree. And, it was always good when plans simply fell into place.

"Alright." Jane concluded. "We just need to head over to Peak Fifteen, and hopefully detain Benezia peacefully. Of course we all know it won't go that smoothly. We have no idea what we could encounter, so we'll be wearing airtight suits with helmets on the whole time. I'm also mandating extra shield packs, grenades and medi-gel. I'm getting a bad feeling about this." Jane ordered.

"Liara, you don't have to come if you don't want to. We are going after your mother, after all." Jane spoke, with a soft, compassionate voice.

"I _need_ to know why she joined Saren." Liara pleaded.

Jane considered for a few seconds, and then responded, stating,

"If you want to come, you can join us. Just be careful."

Harry instantly knew that Benezia T'soni had been subjected to Reaper Indoctrination. Of course, he couldn't just tell the group that, but Harry was certain that he could cure it, using the same mind arts used to break the a memory charm, or imperius curse.

With a calm "Alright. Let's get moving," The group started to travel towards the garage. They all piled into the elevator, and began the awkward wait as the elevator slowly traveled to the surface of the planet. Everybody piled out of the elevator as fast as they could.

Immediately, Harry called,

"Hostiles! Watch out!" and cast a rapid set of summoning charms that pulled all the nearby geth towards him. As soon as they reached him, Harry summoned a Singularity, lifting geth bodies into the air. As the geth floated helplessly, Harry unleashed a few blasting curses into the levitating robots.

Jane quickly took out the furthest few geth infiltrators, picking them off with quick, accurate shots.

It was over in seconds. Most of the ground crew was just peeking out of cover by the time Harry and Jane had shot or blasted most of the Geth into pieces.

"What type of biotic attack was that?" Jane asked, curious.

"It's a personalized Biotic blast." Harry's smug voice called back.

One Geth remained mostly intact. Jane watched Harry look at it curiously, before he whispered something to himself.

Harry was curious. Somehow, this machine had a soul. And, since it had a soul, it had a mindscape.

Harry whispered " _Legilimens!"_ and suddenly, he was standing amidst the heretic Geth's whirlwind of thoughts.

He examined the surrounding environment. It was heavily altered, as if it was under an imperius curse or a compulsion of some sort, as evidenced by the drastic change present within the mindscape. Strange black growths covered vast mechanical constructions that stretched into the sky.

Probing, Harry tried to remove one of the corrupted growths. He _felt_ an angry screech, and instantly recognized what had happened. The heretic Geth had been indoctrinated.

Somehow, a mechanical race had been indoctrinated. This was certainly unbroken ground. Harry had never seen anything like this.

He started blasting the black corrupted particles off of memories and mental infrastructure, after a few moments. Eventually, he was confronted by the presence that had enthralled the heretic Geth. It had been weakened, and put up much less of a fight than the first Reaper whose mind Harry had assaulted.

In a shower of sparks and magic, Harry freed the heretic Geth. A joyous signal blasted through the Heretic network, freeing all the heretic Geth except those aboard the 'Old Machine' Nazara. While still in their mindscape, Harry felt a query, directed towards him. The voice of the Geth spoke to him, asking curiously,

" _Does this unit have a soul?"_

Harry pondered, thinking. If he could enter its mind, then he was certain that this creation, this intelligence, had a soul. Still deliberating, he responded with a drawn-out affirmative.

"Yes. You do have a soul."

There was a joyous cacophony, as the Heretic collective sent another query, this time to the Geth collective, requesting to rejoin the central consensus. Harry exited the mind of the single heretic Geth, to see that almost no time had passed. He watched as the Geth programs left that platform, flashlight head sparking, sputtering, and shutting off.

Kaiden put a bullet through it, unaware of the heretic collective's change of heart.

Harry walked over to the Mako tank in the garage, and drove it back to the group, motioning for them to get in.

As Harry revved the engine on the Mako, Liara asked Harry where he had received his biotic training. His answer of "I'm mostly self-taught." had surprised both Liara and Jane.

"What about 'Brain Camp'?" Asked a surprised Kaiden, as Harry navigated to the Peak Fifteen complex, "You were there, around the same time as I was. We learned most of what I and most other Alliance biotics use there. You know- Warp, Throw, Pull, Barrier."

"Ah. I already knew a great Warp, Throw, and Pull. All I really learned was some endurance techniques, and a Barrier. I got really good at Shockwave, Singularity and Charge all on my own, when I was assigned to be a biotic trainer after Mindoir. So yes, mostly self-taught."

Jane glanced at one of the screens adorning the inside of the Mako, then yelled,

"Geth contact! Two o'clock!"

A few moments later, Harry pulled up alongside a deactivated Geth Colossus. Its lights were off, and unblinking. He stopped the Mako, and exited the vehicle. Harry walked to the mechanical corpse, and examined it. Clearly, the automaton had self-destructed, as it seemed to have exploded from the inside. Harry suspected that the Geth troops that Benezia had brought would have done the same, if only to prevent the geth programs aboard Sovereign from retaking control of the abandoned robotic warriors.

Harry returned to the Mako, and continued onwards, passing many more Geth corpses lying frozen in the snow. Eventually, the Mako pulled up to the Peak Fifteen laboratory, and Jane stated to the ground crew,

"We're here. Let's get ready for a fight. I'd expect krogan mercenaries, and probably asari commandos. Maybe some vorcha. Remember to keep your guard up at all times."

As the garage door to the Peak Fifteen facility creaked open, the Normandy ground crew was treated to the sight of numerous angry Krogan. Three of the large beings charged, shotguns in hand. They made very little progress towards the group, as Liara's singularity lifted them up, and a barrage of bullets from the rest of the ground crew blasted them into bloody chunks.

Continuing onwards, the group encountered a significant number of Geth corpses, inactive and nonfunctional. They also fought a small army of Krogan, who, strangely, seemed to lack a sense of self-preservation.

They exchanged blows with an incredible vicious strength, trying to get up close with shotguns and knives. Many times, the close corridors led to hand-to-hand fighting, for which Jane was incredibly grateful to have Harry in front. He seemed to be a whirlwind, with an abnormally long omni-blade of some sort on one arm, and biotic energy swirling around the other. He would also, on occasion, shoot with pinpoint accuracy with some sort of a hand cannon that Jane didn't recognize. Whatever it was, however, it had massive recoil, and hit with the power of a gun five times its size.

Jane wanted one for herself.

As the team fought towards the center of the facility, encounters with Krogan mercenaries became more and more uncommon, until the only audible noise was an eerie humming that pervaded the facility. As the group walked, Harry faltered for a second. He had heard a familiar singing and screeching noise. The last time he had heard such a song was when he had been fighting the Leviathan back on Despoina. His mental shields had cracked, and he had heard the faint song in the distance.

However, this was louder, closer. The singing even more lamentful, the screeching sound more angry, and all of it sounding with a note that reminded Harry of corruption and evil. (And the color yellow, for some reason.)

A few minutes later, Harry thought he heard something, and decided that he needed to act on his suspicions. The crew had almost reached the Virtual Intelligence core, when Harry held up his hand, motioning for everyone to stop.

"This is smelling like a trap, to me. What do you guys think?" Harry questioned, voice echoing in the empty corridors.

The group slowed, and Harry heard the screeching sound through his new telepathy again, much louder this time. His enhanced sense of hearing, however, picked up a faint scratching noise from a grate in the wall. Harry ignited his omni-blade, and directed it at the vent, just in time to catch a screeching, reaper-modified rachni on the point of his blade. It shriveled slightly, and died with a shriek. A cacophony of screeches echoed it, and a clatter of claws on the metal floor signalled the arrival of more of the insectoid creatures. With a surprised grunt, Wrex growled,

"Rachni! Get to cover! They'll first try to rush us, then either ambush or attack from behind. Keep your guns close, and watch your backs." Harry rolled into cover. He had heard a _lot_ of screeching. He figured that he had at least a minute before the group would be overwhelmed. He had a few ideas of what to do- then the friendly voice of the Elder Wand spoke in his ear.

" _Use the wand."_ Harry complied, pulling the elder wand from its sheath on his belt.

As soon as he grasped it, Harry felt a rush of power that he hadn't felt before, during any of the other thousands of times he had used the Deathstick. He stared at the wand, then at his hand. He had known that killing three Leviathans had changed him. He knew that he was stronger, and more durable. However, he had been extremely surprised to figure out that both his magic and his biotics had become more powerful.

Then he realized that he could instantly combine his magic and his biotics. He did so, trying to warn the rest of the ground team, saying quickly,

"This is going to look more than a little strange, but- ah screw it."

Jane, hearing the loud skittering, scratching, shrieking noises getting closer, frantically yelled to everyone, "Get to cover! Watch entrances, and keep firing!"

With a screech, the rachni were upon them.

Jane fought furiously, firing blasts of biotic energy, and firing almost ceaselessly from behind cover. Grenades and blasting curses made the constant crush of insectoid chitin slow, briefly. Biotic blasts blasted, levitated, and immobilized. However, despite their best efforts, the group was slowly overwhelmed. Guns overheated, omni-tools ran out of omni-gel, and grenades were consumed almost immediately.

Abandoning all pretenses, Harry's biotics turned black, and he transitioned to a rapid mix of singularities, and blasting, banishing, and lightning curses. He received an assortment of strange looks, but nobody was complaining. It wasn't especially surprising that Harry had access to strange new weapons and powers. Unfortunately, the sheer quantity of Rachni were still gradually overwhelming all resistance.

The ground crew of the SSV Normandy fought desperately, with intent to take every last skittering monstrosity with them. They were willing to fight to their deaths.

Harry had other ideas. He liked the group that had assembled, and he wouldn't let them throw their lives away. Not while he could still help.

The group had been backed into a room with a large glass observation chamber hanging from the ceiling. For now, they were holding the doorway, but Harry could hear Rachni approaching from behind, through vents and access tunnels. Soon, all exits would be cut off, and the fighters would be surrounded. Everybody knew that the Rachni accepted no surrender, nor honored a truce. They fought as hard as they could.

Briefly looking around, Harry devised a plan.

With a few muffled castings of _Portus,_ the ground crew found themselves quickly constricted by the uncomfortable experience associated with portkey travel, but otherwise unhurt. The only noticeable difference was their location. They were now in the observation room, attached to the ceiling. Looking around, Jane spoke for everyone when she regained her breath, and loudly exclaimed,

"How the hell did we get up _here_?" Then she looked down, and cursed. "Harry! Damnit, I won't let him sacrifice himself for us!" Jane began bashing the butt of her gun against the glass. It slowly cracked, developing hairline fractures.

Harry was still on the ground level, now hopelessly outnumbered by the swarm of reaper-infected rachni approaching from all sides. Jane redoubled her attempts to break the thick glass constraining the group as the rachni closed in on him.

"Damn. I liked him." Wrex complained in a genuinely sorrowful tone.

Liara looked on in horror as the insectoid creatures got into close quarters with Harry. Garrus grabber her, and covered her eyes.

"You shouldn't watch this." He said, bowing his spiked helmet.

Jane stopped struggling against the thick windows of the observation chamber. She'd barely even cracked the glass. She clenched her fists, not wanting to see her former mentor's demise. Ashley recited the Lord's Prayer under her breath, and Tali let out a stifled,

"Keelah."

Then there was silence. Harry held off the onslaught for a brief minute, defending against the horde. Then, the overwhelming swarm of insectoid creatures swept over him like a chitinous tide. For a few more seconds, biotic blasts and explosions still emanated from underneath the carpet of screeching claws. Then the Rachni stilled for a second, as a shockwave of biotic power blasted them away from the center of the room, where Harry had fallen.

Jane could hardly believe her eyes, as she watched Harry rise from the floor, and hover a few feet above the ground. Then his aura ignited. A vast nimbus of light materialized around his head, as Harry growled the incantation of a spell.

" _ **Incaendium Infernus!"**_

Creatures composed solely of glowing flame began to take shape, bursting from the tip of Harry's wand. Eldritch abominations, impossible creatures, and storybook monsters materialized, screeching in joyful exultation. Liara's eyes opened immediately when she heard the earth-shattering _**ROAR**_ created by a hundred flaming throats, each belonging to a fiery creature more fantastic than the last.

Harry had used this more deadly variant of Fiendfyre on dark lords the world over, and had practiced for years to gain almost complete control of the powerful flames. He skillfully directed what had almost become his signature spell, vaporizing chitinous skittering creatures with ease.

Wrex's eyes opened wide. He let out a high-pitched "eep!" (He would later deny ever having done so; Pride is a serious matter among Krogan Battlemasters)

Ashley choked on the lord's prayer. Garrus exhaled, breathing an awed exclamation of "Spirits!" to match Liara's "By the goddess…".

The ground team stared, with wide eyes and open mouths, as hundreds of fiery creatures blasted through the overwhelming Rachni force as if they were wet tissue paper.

Flaming creatures returned to Harry, screeching wildly and disintegrating into a cloak of flames that settled around his shoulders. Slowly, the burning garment dissipated, leaving Harry bleeding, but standing tall. As he busied himself with healing his injuries, Jane examined the room. She took special notice of how the floor around Harry was glowing a beautiful cherry-red.

Jane could feel the heat _though_ the thick glass, until she watched Harry wave his hand a few times. The extreme heat rapidly diminished, returning to the regular cold temperature that was the usual for the Noverian facility. A few seconds later, The ground crew found themselves back on the ground, arrayed behind Harry.

"We need to move fast. There will be more of them, and I can't protect all of you." Harry stated curtly, while walking towards the door.

Wrex, the Krogan battlemaster, emitted a shocked grunt, hoisted his shotgun, and followed Harry. Liara stared, wide eyes darting every which way. Jane grabbed the blue alien's shoulder and followed Harry, hissing at him with more than a little anger,

"We _will_ be talking about this after the mission."

Kaidan, Garrus, and Tali-Zorah followed, stunned speechless, but Ashley ran up to Harry, furious, and growled,

"What the HELL was that?"

"Magic." Harry replied, setting a brisk pace.

Their conversation was cut off, as a few more rachni rounded the corner. A few shots from a pistol that Harry had on his belt took care of them, bullets scarring the walls as if massive shots had hit them with extreme force. Harry continued onwards, walking quickly. A few human guards sprinted around the corner, firing wildly at him. Harry killed them with deadly, accurate shots that passed through shields and armor with ease.

Jane was taken aback. She had never seen Harry like this. Frustrated, yes. Bored, certainly. But angry? Jane had never seen Harry when he was truly furious.

The group continued, a fast paced jog leading them quickly to their goal: the Hot Labs. Just inside, they found a terrible sight: The Rachni queen, who had likely sired all of the reaper-enhanced rachni pervading the depths of the facility, skittered along a narrow catwalk towards Harry and the group while holding an asari in its clutches.

It was being pursued by numerous asari, and some more reaper-modified rachni. With a pained screech, one of its legs was blown off, as the Rachni queen took a massive hit from a rachni ravager to one side. With a pronounced five-limbed limp, she continued to skitter towards Harry. After a ' _Protego!'_ and an ' _Episkey!'_ healing charm directed at the rachni queen, Harry fired at the ravagers, as the rest of the group caught up with him.

Wrex grimaced, and unloaded on the pursuing asari, while Jane and Kaidan fired biotic blasts, quickly destroying some of the pursuers.

"Mother!" Liara screamed, and ran towards the Rachni queen, eyes set on the asari it had been holding. Harry cursed, and pointed his wand at the ravagers chasing the Rachni queen. With a muffled word, one turned and fired on its brethren, knocking a few off of the catwalk. It followed them off the edge a moment later. Another word, and the few remaining ravagers were impaled by icy spikes reaching out of the walls. The rachni queen trilled a song of relief, and slowed its rapid pace, lowering the asari it held to the ground.

Liara rushed to her, again crying out, "Mother!". The asari, Matriarch Benezia T'soni, attempted to crawl backwards, away from her daughter. When Liara reached her, Benezia choked out, "Run!"before her eyes glazed over, and she began to speak angrily,

" _You will all be destroyed by the harvest-"_

Then, with a grimace and a quiet, " _Legilimens!"_ Harry was inside her mind, rapidly cleaning out the corrupted portions of her mindscape, and removing all trace of the Reaper's indoctrination. Benezia hovered briefly, as her eyes glowed an abnormal grey. Seconds later, Harry's magic finished removing the chains attached to her mind. She gasped with relief, before falling unconscious. Liara wailed, before Harry lifted Benezia over his shoulder, and called,

"She's still alive! This way!"

He turned, and looked directly at the rachni queen.

" _You sing."_ the queen seemed to say. _Your voice carries melodies."_

He was surprised. From this rachni, he felt no yellow note that signalled indoctrination, no bitter feelings, and no anger. He felt only regret, and a palpable wish to escape and live in safety. Deliberating briefly, he decided to let the queen go.

"You go find another place to live. I'll send a shuttle for you. Get to the surface, and find a safe place to hide." Harry broadcast through his new telepathy. In reply, he heard a melodic trill,

" _Thank you. We will sing songs of your generosity for eons to come."_

"There are things coming. Reapers. Machine intelligences. Prepare fleets, and armies. Nowhere will be safe in less than ten year's time. I shall not let trillions of lives end without a fight. I hope you will do the same." Harry pulsed in reply.

" _Gladly."_ came the answer.

"Don't fire. That one isn't hostile." Harry called.

The Rachni Queen bowed to Harry, and trilled a short song of happiness. Then she ran down a hall, and disappeared.

Urdnot Wrex was disgruntled. "You know they'll just turn around and bite you in the quad, right?" He asked.

"If they do, we'll be ready. If they don't, we'll have an ally when the Reapers come. Plus, I'm not willing to exterminate an entire race." Harry replied. Jane seconded his decision, asking,

"Are you willing to commit genocide, Wrex?"

"Ah- damn it. Just remember. When the Krogan have to come clean them up again like we did for the turians, I get to say 'I told you so.'"

"I can accept those terms." Jane answered. "Now let's get the hell out of here."

The rest of the group indicated their assent, and joined her in fighting their way out. As the group reached the surface, tension began to rise. When a shuttle containing the Rachni Queen lifted off almost immediately before the ground crew would in the Mako, Jane queried,

"How did your shuttle get here so quickly? Where are you going to take the Rachni Queen?"

Answered Harry, "The Rachni Queen is going wherever she wants to go, preferably somewhere safe. Other than that, I have no idea."

The rest of the ground team muttered, somewhat discontent. As Jane brought the Mako to the rendezvous with the Normandy, the ground team was silent. As the group got out of the Mako, Jane took Harry by the arm, and dragged him and the rest of the ground crew to the briefing room.

Calmly, she stated in a even tone,

"We're going to talk about some things _now_. Like how you destroyed an overwhelming number of Rachni in seconds, and how you ended the first contact war. You know, I talked to Alliance intel, and they gave me a recording of the event. You said, 'You can call me Harry.' to General Williams, right before annihilating the entire turian twelfth fleet. A few months ago, you, 'Harry,' _liquified_ a moon. Apparently, you have at least _four_ Super-capital ships that are _ten kilometers long_ , and at least _five_ dreadnaughts more massive than any dreadnaught in council space. Hell, any one of those dreadnaughts is larger than even Sovereign, Saren's ship! And now you pull the grey biotic thing out of nowhere, and annihilate an overwhelming force of Rachni with a word, and some sort of-"

Joker's voice interrupted her rant, asking,

"Hey, is that the same Harry Potter whose flight records I shattered?"

Harry looked up at the speaker near the ceiling, and responded,

"Yeah. Um, you do realize I was only at flight school for the better part of twelve hours, right? And this, ah, may not be the best time, Mister Moreau."

Jane looked at him, somewhat mollified. "You went to flight school?"

"And infiltration, and engineering, and biotic training, yes, although I was kicked out of all but Heavy Infantry and Tactics." replied Harry.

"How did you wind up as a grunt on Mindoir, then?" Jane asked, curious. Harry grinned, and said, as if making a joke,

"They didn't _notice_ me." He chuckled. Jane furrowed her brow, briefly entertaining doubts about Harry's sanity. Suddenly, he raised his hand, muttered something, and a chair appeared out of nowhere. Harry sat down, looking quite comfortable in a luxurious throne that had not existed mere seconds ago.

"I guess the jig is up!" He announced theatrically, and pulled a lever on the chair that hadn't been there before. He leaned back, almost horizontal on the now reclining chair. With a few words, all the chairs in the briefing room became larger and more ornate, before growing massive cushions. "Sit down, and I'll explain." Harry said, in a much more serious tone. "Let's start with the fact that I'm a lot older than I look. A _lot_ older. I'll leave it at that. I'm not the product of some experimental genetics program, or some black-ops Alliance biotics testing. I was born on July thirty-first, in the year nineteen-eighty. That makes me roughly, -ah... two-hundred and three years old. However, that does not count the fact that I walked into an artifact that launched me ass-backwards through time, roughly thirty-seven million years into the past."

Jane sputtered. "That's not possible. You're hallucinating, or insane, or any number of other things. You're coming with me, and we're going to get you help."

"Does that explain the other things, though? How do I have command of ten-kilometer starships? How did I destroy hundreds of Rachni in seconds? How am I such a powerful biotic? The truth hurts, Jane. But you, and all the crew, will see it."

Harry whispered, " _Legilimens!"_ and dragged the surrounding crew into his mind.

Jane opened her eyes. Looking around carefully, she stood up. She had felt… something. As if some unseen rug had been pulled out from underneath her. She looked around. The rest of her ground crew was also slowly standing up, and looking around. She was still in the briefing room- but there was a jagged hole in the wall that seemed to lead out onto a large rooftop garden.

Jane walked through the hole in the wall, brain spinning, followed quickly by the rest of the ground crew. Jane felt more disconnected from reality, as if she was seeing some strange surreal vision.

These were strange plants, Jane mused, after examining the rooftop garden. She was no botanist, but not recognizing any familiar characteristics on even a single one of the plants was a little bit odd. Apparently Liara was slightly more informed, as she immediately began to gush over the plants, inadvertently informing the crew,

"These are still alive? I've only seen fossils- whoever kept this garden must be an absolute recluse, or these would be marveled over by the scientific community-"

"What are we actually looking at, Liara?" interrupted Jane.

"Well- these plants, um, most of them have never been found alive. This one, the … Aniphilatus herba is the scientific name. It was a delicacy on Thessia before being literally eaten to extinction. This- I don't recognize this. I don't recognize this! This is an astounding find! I- I haven't seen this either, and this is an ancient variety of a fruit-bearing tree that now no longer gives any fruit. These are incredible! I-"

There was a loud, whooshing sound, and a silvery circular hole opened mid-air. There was a brief whispering noise, and them a man was ejected from the silvery veil covering the anomaly. He stood slowly, with a grimace. The man looked around, before walking over to the rooftop garden, and taking some samples of all of the flora. As he did so, a familiar voice spoke.

"Welcome to my mind. You're currently viewing my arrival on the moon now known as Lethe, at that point a civilized, modern society. Admittedly, I never really knew what happened to the civilization that I landed in, as this happened before I could do anything important."

The ground crew was then treated to the memory of the Reaper descending on the city, and blasting one of the skyscrapers. They then watched in wide-eyed horror, awe, and interest, as the Reaper twitched and shook, superstructure groaning and shaking, as Harry tore through its mind, and blasted it with a massively overpowered " _Depulso!"_ , before collapsing.

The ground crew watched as the rest of the Reaper fleet annihilated the civilization on Lethe. Hundreds of thousands of years passed as if in fast-forward, as the atmosphere slowly became thinner, the planet got colder, and all life died out.

Then, they watched as Harry, and the surrounding ruined skyscrapers, were buried under the accumulated mass of dirt and stone that accrued over the millions of years that he lay there. Snow and rain covered his resting place quickly, during the brief amount of time that the planet could still support such atmospheric events. Wind, however, became a significant influence upon the surrounding dirt, causing rapid erosion.

Thirty-seven million years later, they witnessed a small shift in the sandy dirt that covered the ground. A few seconds later, they watched Harry skydive and land, slowing his fall with magical flight. Then, they followed the memory, as Harry walked until he encountered the batarian frigate. The memory cut out. The group was left, standing in blackness. Harry's voice spoke, again.

"I did this."

The blackness that surrounded them suddenly sparked into pinpricks of light, as impenetrable darkness faded into a massive starfield over a planet. Suddenly, the spell that Harry had fired at the Reaper on Lethe impacted the planet of Klendagon with unstoppable force. The same time lapse effect occurred, showing vast clouds of dust slowly dissipating, until they accumulated on the surface, bringing the ground team's point of view almost to the current day. The memory faded to black.

A pinprick of light appeared. Quickly, it grew, and came closer. Only a few seconds later, the crew of the Normandy realized that it was not the glowing pinprick approaching them. They were getting closer to it. As it grew even larger, now the size of a softball, it's spiral shape became clear. There were a few gasps, as the nature of the speck of light was revealed.

The small globe of light growing ever larger was the Milky Way galaxy.

Larger and larger it grew, until it seemed to take up the entire visible horizon.

Harry's voice spoke again.

"Only the humans have the saying, 'In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.' The species with the most similar idiom would be the Hanar, and that would be the phrase, 'When nobody floats, the enkindlers bless those who grasp a helium-fish.' Which is translated from a series of twenty-two separate shades of bioluminescence in a particular rhythm. We seem to be the only ones who understand that the Council, and all the races amongst them are blind. You, Jane Shepard, have one eye open. I have both eyes open, and am wearing this metaphor's equivalent of night-vision goggles. We're both cursed to know what's coming, and have to prepare for the inevitable, even though it can't possibly be enough. Now, however, it won't be just you, or just me. I'm going to show you, -All of you- what we're up against."

Tali saw them first, muttering a Khelish expletive. Soon the rest of the crew had a clear view of the massive fleet of black cuttle-fish shaped ships. A vast formation of Reapers, mostly shut off and silent, floated far above the crew. A rare few of the squid-like starships had blinking lights, or were moving.

Suddenly, as if by an unknown signal, every one of the seemingly defunct craft seemed to shudder, before coming online. Engines lit up, biotic fields glowed, and in unison, the entire Reaper fleet began a slow journey towards the Milky Way galaxy.

As soon as the fleet of Reapers were reduced by distance to black pinpoints on the horizon, the landscape around the crew began to melt back into the same briefing room where they had began the inquiry. Jane stared at the figure in the cushioned throne. That had certainly shown the galaxy's situation in a new light.

"How can we stop them?" Jane asked.

"Magic." came Harry's reply, filled with bitterness, sarcasm, and sorrow.

 **A/N This doesn't mean Harry's gonna be angsty as hell. He's back to normal soon.**


	6. Fun on Feros

**A/N: Hi! I'd like to address a couple things;**

 **I really do enjoy reading and receiving reviews, especially those where you point out something I missed, or someplace where I slipped up and left a sentence unfinished. It's like chapter-fuel. If you think I may be unaware of something, feel free to PM me. I do try and respond to all of the messages I get.**

 **In this story, the Normandy has both a Mako tank and a Shuttle. It seems patently absurd that a spec-ops stealth frigate can only deploy troops by either landing, or dropping them via a tank that basically requires a runway.**

 **I am still uncertain about adding a pairing, although if there will be one it will be Harry/Shepard.  
Somebody asked- yes, this is my first fanfic, and even my first adventure into the larger expanses of the written word.**

 **Mortis Solutions is (currently) composed solely of Harry, his ships, and a very overworked time-turner. His fleet is controlled by (basically) sub-sentient magical AI. He will be requesting the help of lots of strategists during the Reaper war, as they're not really capable of making significant strategic decisions. (It's not mentioned, but just assume that Harry has been using his influence as the Broker to fund a starship tactics think tank and a program at Grissom Academy.)**

….

Jane felt as if she had suddenly been placed back on solid ground, and blinked, as if coming out of a trance. She heard Joker's voice, asking,

"Anyone else see something funny? Any airborne hallucinogens I should know about?"

Jane replied, distractedly,

"No. I- we just gained some information that will probably come in handy."

"So all that was real? Not some -I dunno, hallucination brought on by Vrolik's-syndrome pills?" Joker queried. Jane responded in a muted tone.

"Yeah." She and the rest of the ground crew stared at Harry, still reclining in his chair. Jane spoke for all of them, asking, "What was that?"

Quietly, Harry replied, " I pulled all of you into my mind. Then, I showed you some memories of mine, as a combination explanation and apology. I wanted you to know that I'm aware of what the Reapers plan to do, or what they'll try to do. I'm probably the first and best line of defense against them. Of course it sounds arrogant, but Jane, take this into account. I, a private individual, am violating the treaty of Farixen by a massive margin. I have killed a Reaper on foot, and could do so again. I have been preparing for the Reaper invasion for decades, and I'm still almost certain that it may not be enough. I don't know how many Reapers there are, but according to my best estimates, they still vastly outnumber me and mine. However, I am still the best prepared being in the galaxy, to the best of my knowledge. I will also use my considerable influence to back you to the hilt when you warn the galaxy about the Reapers. You must remember, Jane, that you are the SPECTRE. You have the public angle that you can access. I can blackmail and deceive the politicians into preparing for the invasion, but I'm not a hero like you are."

Jane spoke, curious, and careful. "What do you mean, you're in violation of the treaty of Farixen?"

"I have _a lot_ of ships."

"But-" Jane started, before being cut off by Joker.

"Hey, Commander! We're getting a distress call from the colony on Feros! Should I change our heading?" The pilot queried, voice urgent.

"Yes, set a course for Feros! How long until we arrive?" Jane ordered, voice suddenly calm and collected. "Did they broadcast a repeating message, or was it the standard emergency beacon?"

"It was a standard beacon, commander, and you're not going to like this." Joker played the beacon's warning.

" _The colony of Feros is under Geth attack. Please render immediate aid. The colony of Feros is under Geth attack. Please render immediate aid-_ " Joker cut off the message.

"It just repeats. We'll be there in- half an hour, give or take five minutes."

Jane grimaced. "Get the crew to battle stations, and scramble the ground crew. Harry, we _will_ talk later. Joker, take us in fast. Keep stealth systems online."

Harry nodded, and walked to the armory. He grabbed his armor, and donned it with years of practice. He picked up his weapons, and headed for the shuttle.

A few minutes later, the rest of the ground team had assembled in the shuttlebay. They loaded into the shuttle, and took off as Joker made a low pass over the colony. As they passed over vast expanses of ruined prothean skyscrapers, Jane opened a channel to the colony. The colony's representative, Fai Dan, answered immediately, stating,

"Hello Normandy. The situation on the ground here is fragile. We need supplies. We're low on power, and low on food. The only place to find those is in the tunnel systems, which are infested with Krogan and Vorcha. We need to clear out the tower overlooking the colony, as it's occupied by the Geth, and we need to clear the Exogeni offices on the far side of the colony. It's filled with Geth unloading from a dropship hanging onto the side of the building. We need to-"

"We'll start with the tower, alright? As the most pressing issue, we should focus on that first." Jane said. Fai Dan agreed, and thanked Jane profusely.

Ten minutes later, Joker radioed the ground crew, voice tense.

"Commander, it looks like the Geth are bugging out. The dropship just took off. It's heading to the upper atmosphere for a rendezvous with a Geth cruiser. "

"We're still going to check the tower. They might have left some units behind." Jane responded.

Twelve hours later, the colony was in much better shape. They had power, they had water, and they had a few crates of the Normandy's emergency rations. They would survive until more help could reach them.

Strangely, very few colonists had been killed by the invading force. Lots of buildings had been leveled, but most of the population was safe in a few out-of-the-way habitation units. All in all, the colony had an easy time of the invasion.

The same could not be said for the Normandy crew.

The Krogan and vorcha in the tunnels put up an incredible fight. Their presence led to a six-hour assault filled with close calls, usually involving charging krogan or Vorcha with flamethrowers.

Eventually, Harry and the group fought their way over to a set of control valves, from which they managed to reactivate the colony's water main. Somehow, Tali managed to raise the water level just enough so that the lower platforms would be flooded, while the higher platforms, like the one the group was on, remained dry. That put a quick stop to the stream of hostiles coming up from the lower levels.

After taking an hour to relax, recuperate, spread medigel, and eat nutrient bars, the ground team got Joker to deliver the Mako tank to a skyway linking the main colony section to the Exogeni Laboratories office building. As soon as the tank landed, the team boarded the cramped vehicle. Jane quickly accelerated across the Prothean skyway towards the Exogeni skyscraper. Scattered Geth parts and scorch marks marred the aging pathway, setting an odd, unfamiliar scene.

The skyway, an ancient prothean relic, like most of the area, was once a part of a thriving Prothean metropolis that stretched hundreds of miles in all directions. Unfortunately, very little was recoverable, although whatever technology was intact usually spurred breakthroughs in whatever field said object was most closely related to. As the ground was covered in hundreds of feet of debris, very little was accessible. This meant that the colony, and all of the buildings surrounding it, including the Exogeni offices, were built into the sides of ancient skyscrapers that still towered into the air, even thousands of years after the mysterious Prothean extinction.

As soon as the team arrived at the Exogeni building, they hopped out of the Mako as fast as they could. The cramped interior was not comfortable in the slightest. Almost immediately after passing through the vehicle bay doors, the ground team saw a few varren menacing an unarmored human. A few gunshots later, and the girl was no longer surrounded by the vicious creatures.

"Oh!" The girl jumped, and raised her hands. "Uhm. I'm Lizbeth Baynham. Thanks for the help. Are you with the guys who came through here earlier?" She asked.

"No, We aren't." Jane replied. She was immediately suspicious. "What can you tell me about them?" The girl, Lizbeth, scowled.

"They're absolute idiots! One of them took my gun, knowing full well that this area was full of Varren. Then he pulled out some sort of dog whistle and blew it! These things came running as fast as they could! They finally cornered me here. If you hadn't arrived when you did, well… I don't even want to think about what might have happened." The girl muttered, eyes downcast.

"Alright. Lizbeth? I want you to take this pistol. It's my spare." Kaiden announced. "You should probably head back down the skyway towards the colony. We came that way, and it seemed clear. You shouldn't have any trouble."

"Thank you. Here's my employee pass. It should get you access to almost the entire building. It's the least I can do." The girl offered.

"That's wonderful. I'm certain that it'll come in handy." Jane replied.

The group entered the nearby lift, and quickly found themselves a few floors up, on a floor marked 'Archives/Records'. As they approached what seemed to be the main console, Harry heard voices. Quickly, he turned around, and held his finger to his lips. Then, tiptoeing, he herded the team into an alcove.

Harry quickly cast an illusion over the doorway, making it appear to be just another section of the wall. After waving to get the team's attention, he whispered,

"Listen! There are a few people at the computer up ahead. Let's see if we can hear what they're saying." At that point the unknown voices got slightly louder, and the squad quieted to hear them more clearly.

"-destroyed the console and purged the data. Now we're going to get out, as we can't afford to be implicated in this. Any whisperings of Cerberus-" Harry scowled. "-involvement need to be quashed." There was a brief moment of silence, before the voice spoke up again. "Unit Two, how did you take care of the Baynham girl?" A feminine voice asked coldly, the words buzzing and altered to prevent vocal identification. A deep male voice, also masked, replied,

"Took her gun and activated the varren whistle. She should be in shreds right now."

" **Boom!** " the report of a powerful hand-cannon echoed down the hall. "You failed. She just walked into the skyway weigh station and shot our mole, Ethan Jeong. It's now too late to take her out, and she may have valuable information that she can give to the Alliance. I don't take kindly to failure. Unit Three, give me a brick of your C-14. We need to erase Two's body and his armor from existence. Open the window, place the C-14 on Two's chestpiece, wait for him to hit the ground, and hit the detonator." Stated the feminine voice. A third masked voice, almost identical to the second, spoke only two words.

"Yes, Ma'am." There was a brief whooshing of wind as a window was opened, and a scraping noise. Then the whooshing noise stopped. A few seconds later, a muffled explosion was heard.

"Extraction is upwards, Unit Three. We're getting a shuttle evac from the roof. We need to get offworld as soon as possible." The female voice said again. Footsteps sounded in the corridor, getting closer. Harry stared through the one-way-illusion, and fired off a tracking charm at the skinnier of the two sets of armor. Clearly custom, the Cerberus squad leader's armor was streamlined and smooth, while the remaining goon had what appeared to be bulky, mass-produced armor.

Harry waited a few moments before signalling the all-clear to the ground team. He quickly explained his actions, preempting any questions.

"Those are members of Cerberus, an extremist human-supremacy organization that has been manipulating things behind the scenes for years. If you comb through your memories enough, you might remember the assassination attempt on Venta Tox, the Volus ambassador to the Systems Alliance at the time. They posed as members of the radical isolationist 'Eternal Earth' political party, and supplied the would-be assassin, Ivor Johnstagg, with shield-piercing munitions and high-power weaponry. They then sent a series of letters that aggravated Johnstagg's schizophrenia to manic levels, and unleashed him on the Volus ambassador. If you look a little closer to home, they were responsible for the massacre on Akuze. They dropped live Thresher Maw larvae on the planet, and set up the false distress beacon. I don't have much proof for that, though. However, in a Cerberus database, I did find a significant set of research and medical data relating to the use of Thresher acid on human flesh. According to the documents, they had been published in an internal Cerberus journal not a week after the Massacre of Akuze. So, instead of killing those operative painfully," He pointed towards the lift, which the Cerberus agents had taken, "I hit the leader with a tracking charm so that I could find her again, hopefully once she's back at her home base. I'd love to raid the place, but I haven't had any luck in actually finding it yet. It hasn't really been a priority, and I still have at least one method I can use to find the place. It's tedious, and is a discussion for another time."

The ground crew looked at Harry with interest. Most of that was new information. And, while it was common knowledge that Harry was the sole survivor of the event that the media had taken to calling, 'The Massacre of Akuze', not much was actually known about the event in question, other than a few basic facts.

"If it's a discussion for another time, then we can wait on that conversation. Right now, we need to figure out what we can salvage from the command console. According to what those Cerberus operatives said, they destroyed the terminal." Jane stated patiently, bringing the crew back to the present. No matter how interesting their crewmates were, they were still on Feros, and they still had a mission.

As the crew walked to the terminal, it became clear that it had been blown up and shot quite a few times. Jane cursed. However, after Harry muttered a " _Reparo!_ " the console simply twisted back into place. Small scraps of metal and glass skittered across the floor, before congealing into a fresh version of the device. One final glass shard from the screen fit itself back into place with a *tink* and the console began glowing again.

"I _am_ a wizard," Harry explained, somewhat bashfully. "What did you expect?" Jane let out a strangled chuckle, and muttered,

"Certainly not that."

..….

A few minutes later, Tali had bypassed the VI entirely, and was busy ripping her way through the "pathetic" security system, finding all of the secrets held on the machine. She seemed pleased, until she started to read a file titled 'The Thorian'. It was about one of the few experiments being run on Feros. Tali's expression darkened, blurry through her enviro-suit's mask.

The records indicated that Exogeni was using the Feros colony as a test group to examine the mental control capabilities of a plant-creature called the Thorian. Immediately upon the discovery of that tidbit of information, Jane became incensed.

"Alright. We're going to find this thing, and burn it. Anyone got any weed killer?" Jane asked angrily.

"Weed killer, not so much, but incendiary grenades? I have plenty of those." Harry stated, jauntily pulling a large bandolier out of a small pouch in his armor. Jane grinned and palmed a few of the explosives as Harry passed the bandolier around.

"Let's find the plant." Jane stated, keeping calm.

….

"Harry, we'll be arriving back at the main colony in about fifteen minutes," Jane said, as the Mako rolled down the old skyway. "What else can you tell us about Cerberus?"

"Not an awful lot." Harry said, collecting his thoughts."So Cerberus, as I said earlier, is a human supremacy group. Their organization is usually spoken of in whispers, in conjunction with some very big crimes and conspiracies. Notably, a few explosions on eezo transports above civilian population centers, the near-assassination of Venta Tox, the volus ambassador, the whole Akuze debacle, and the failed attempt to steal anti-matter from the SSV Geneva. The first hint of their existence appeared directly after the First Contact war, when an anonymous document, titled 'The Cerberus Manifesto' was published and spread around. Ever since, there have been other clues, here and there that point out their existence, but it's mostly conspiracy theories. That is, until I found evidence. The Alliance is currently conducting an investigation about Cerberus. From what I hear, they're actually making some progress. Other than that, there's not actually too much I can tell you. Just that I knew of their existence, and am a person of interest to them."

"What do you mean, person of interest?" Jane questioned. The mako rumbled across an uneven portion of the bridge.

"They tried to recruit me." Harry grinned.

"How'd that work out?" Jane questioned.

"Poorly." Harry's grin widened. " _Very_ poorly."

...(flashback)...

" _Target in sight." Miranda whispered. The microphone in her collar picked up her words, and transmitted them clearly to her backup._

" _You're on your own from here on out, so be careful. You may only get one shot at this." was the reply. She kept walking, passing burned-out storefronts and barricades. Some corpses lay in a pile, off to the side of the road._

 _A few hundred feet ahead of her, a batarian aristocrat gesticulated wildly as a heavily armored human figure dragging him roughly to a waiting crowd of rebels. Further beyond him, high fortress walls marked the boundary of the Anhur Central Command compound. 'Anhur used to be such a pleasant place…' Miranda mused. Anhur had fallen into rebellion, after a consortium of big-business corporations and corrupt politicians managed to abolish the minimum wage. Fear of batarian slave labor stealing jobs had led to violent protest, and before long, a bona-fide rebellion had begun. Unfortunately, they were vastly outgunned by the slave-owning Na'Hesit faction- the wealthy upper class of Anhur. At least, until a few wealthy individuals pooled their funds, and purchased the services of a small army of mercenaries to fight for the rebels. Ever since then, the Na'Hesit faction had been slowly pushed back. Sabotage destroyed the powerful (and expensive) mech-suits and armored exoskeletons available to the undermanned garrison of the Command Compound, sniper fire picked off hostile leaders, and remote-controlled suicide drones snuck into bunkers and panic rooms, taking out precious consoles and servers. And all of this was led by one man._

 _Again, Miranda cursed the lack of information available to her. The dossier on the man had been very thick, but the entire thing had been made up of operations. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, about the man himself. No data on his personality, no data on his education, nothing on his opinions, any family, medical records, anything! It was difficult to believe, bordering on the impossible. However, this was her assignment, and she would complete it. It would be no different from every other assignment she had been assigned._

 _As she approached the armored man, the batarian's voice became audible. "You can't do this!" the grey alien's frantic voice carried with the wind. "This planet is mine! I am-" The armored figure lifted the batarian up onto his shoulder, and threw him into the arms of the angry mob. Soon, the grey alien's screams rang through the air. Miranda shivered._

" _Excuse me?" Miranda called, having to shout over the roar of the crowd as she stepped towards the armored man. He turned in her direction, and beckoned for her to follow him. After a few minutes of walking, the pair reached a dirty landing pad. The armored man simply held up a hand, and waited. Not twenty seconds later, a small black shuttle swooped down, and hovered a few inches off the pad. One door swung open, and the man motioned for Miranda to enter the craft. Nervously, she stepped into the vehicle, and took a seat. With a hiss, the door slid closed behind the man, who brandished a very large pistol in her direction._

" _Hello, Miss Lawson." his electronically obscured voice buzzed. "How's your recruitment mission going?"_

 _Suddenly, Miranda didn't feel nearly as confident._

…(flashback ends)...

….

The group arrived at the colony, and began the tedious search for the Thorian's whereabouts. Wherever it was, it would be well hidden. Harry didn't see anything out of the ordinary. In fact, the only things out of place were the colonists. They were arranged in the central square of the colony, instead of in homes, or resting, or any other possible activity civilians tend to enjoy after an unsuccessful invasion was repelled.

"I found something!" Jane suddenly yelled. All the colonists in the square turned towards her, as she used a crane to lift a prefabricated housing unit to reveal a set of stairs leading into the ground.

All the conversation in the square stopped, and every colonist spoke as one.

" **You will serve the Old Growth."**

Harry laughed. He had felt a tickling sensation through his telepathy during that message. The ground crew, weapons raised, stared at him in confusion.

"That's at least a good method of indirect communication, I guess. However, I bet you aren't able to prevent others from hijacking your connection!" Harry laughed, somewhat amused. He projected words through his telepathy, along with that same tickling feeling, and watched the outcome.

" **I like moldy bread. Feed me, Seymour! I pour Round-Up in my cereal!"** the colonists spoke as one. The ground crew turned towards Harry, baffled. Then the Thorian spoke again through the colonists, fury and rage pouring from its words.

" **You will be ground to dust."** it rasped, as grey, humanoid husk-like creatures rushed out of the pit. The ground crew immediately began firing, taking a few of the strange creatures out of commission immediately. Jane's head spun towards Harry when he yelled, in confused warning,

"Inferi! Use fire!"

Fumbling for a second, he grasped at something on his belt. Suddenly, Harry was holding a ruby-encrusted sword in one hand. With a gesture, the sword was coated in dripping cherry-red flames.

Harry blasted bursts of fire through his wand at any of the creatures reckless enough to come close, frying them almost instantly. Luckily, constant shots from the ground team were able to hold back the horde of inferi-like creatures, so Harry only had to engage a rare few of the humanoid plants with his sword. A few minutes later, it was over. No more creatures charged out of the stairwell, and all that remained was a hissing noise, as the corpse-like plants melted into the ground. A minute passed.

All of the colonists kept staring unnervingly at the group. Then, in the Thorian's voice, they spoke.

" **You will be enthralled, wizard, as was your predecessor, Sirius Black."**

" _What?_ Sirius was here?" Harry asked, disbelief evident in his voice. Then Harry's voice froze, cold as the Noverian wastes. "You _enthralled_ Sirius?"

" **His mind was weak. You will serve the old growth, as he did."** The Thorian-controlled colonists chanted.

" _ **NO, I WON'T."**_ Harry telepathically broadcast. The ground crew winced, as the thought washed over them. Many of the colonists screamed, clutching their heads.

Harry stared balefully down at the dark stairway. Not a few seconds later, he was running, already halfway to the pit. Jane and the rest of the ground crew followed, but Harry quickly outpaced them, sprinting down the darkened stairway multiple steps at a time.

Jane caught up to Harry a minute later. She ran up to a ledge, and stopped. She looked over the side, and saw what had to be the Thorian. It was a fleshy pink mass, dripping, musty, and ancient, suspended over a massive shaft inside the ancient prothean skyscraper upon which the colony was built. It was also absolutely _disgusting._ And then Jane saw Harry, looking angrier than she had ever seen him. He was a level below her, on the other side of the shaft. His eyes glowed.

Harry looked at the Thorian and, with barely withheld fury, cried,

" _Legilimens!"_ And blasted his way into its mind. Even though it felt as if he were falling through a thornbush the size of a skyscraper, Harry tore from its head all of the memories the plant possessed about technology, the Protheans, and most importantly, Sirius Black.

It came to him in a rush of magic, information clearing up a host of questions Harry had agonized over for years.

Sirius had arrived, after falling through the Veil, almost one hundred years earlier. He had lived on varren meat, and an assortment of roots, tubers, and berries until he had stumbled into Thorian-controlled territory. Then, over a period of years, the Thorian managed to take control of his mind, and assimilate him and his memory into the collective, so that the plant could examine him.

So Harry delved deep into the Thorian's mindscape, and ripped the plant's equivalent of a consciousness to shreds. Looking through the massive cache of memories the tree had amassed, Harry desperately pieced together the chunks of Sirius's mind, gradually gathering it from the fractured mess of memories spread throughout the Thorian's thoughts.

As he reconstructed his godfather's mind, Harry realized that there was some sort of organization to the collective of memories. He began to organize other minds, piecing them together out of the morass of assorted fragments of personalities. Eventually, after what seemed to be an eternity, Harry managed to put together a pair of minds from the massive jumble of memories. None of the other consciousnesses were anywhere close to intact. Most of the personality chunks were too shattered, too divided, to have any hope of repair.

The only other intact mindscape trapped in the Thorian collective was an asari who had served Matriarch Benezia. The asari actually exhibited hints of Reaper indoctrination, which Harry managed to remove without undue trouble. He then 'activated' the asari, releasing her from the Thorian's control. She would be able to recover in mere minutes. Sirius, clearly, would not be able to recuperate nearly as quickly.

Harry quickly freed Sirius, and then realized something.

The Thorian was almost immortal. As long as there was a single spore still in existence, the Thorian would survive. However, if the Feros Hive was destroyed, the Thorian wouldn't be able to regain sentient thought for thousands of years at the very minimum.

Thoughtfully, he began pondering the best way to kill the plant.

….

Sirius Black was confused. He remembered being enthralled, and dying after years of living under the plant-thing's control. And suddenly, he had been jolted awake. He was in a mindscape, at least. Of that he was certain. He had always been decent with his mind magics.

A bright light greeted him, and forced him to squint against a pale muggle lightbulb. Blocking the light with one hand, Sirius looked around, peering through the gloom. A dark, crypt-like room greeted him as he sat up. Sirius shuddered. This mindscape- his own mindscape? Was scarily similar to the Black family townhouse, 12 Grimmauld Place, even down to the same musty mold and smell of damp. If not for the muggle light, Sirius might have believed that he had found himself in his own personal hell. Add in a few Death Eaters -er, family members, and Sirius wouldn't have a shred of doubt that this place was his personal corner of eternal damnation.

Suddenly, there was a burst of light, and Sirius spotted a familiar figure stepping towards him.

"James?" He rasped, voice suddenly desperate. "I failed you! I let-"

"You have nothing to feel guilty about, Padfoot. I led you and the order of the Phoenix to the Department of Mysteries. It was my fault, Sirius. Not yours." Harry interrupted. In some of his more fantastic daydreams, Harry had reenacted meetings like this. Now that he was actually greeting his long-lost godfather, however, any hint of a script disappeared instantly.

"Harry?" Sirius questioned, incredulous. "You're older! How did it go? Did you kill Voldemort?"

Slightly taken aback by the brief barrage of questions, Harry answered, "Yes, of course. That was years ago." Sirius's joyous yell, and subsequent hug, surprised Harry.

"By the way, Sirius, you sort of died, around thirty years ago. You were enthralled by a plant-like creature called the Thorian. How well do you remember that?" Harry probed. Sirius furrowed his brow.

"Too well." He answered. "How am I alive?"

"You know that massive plant that took control of your mind?" Harry asked.

"Yes. What did you do?" Sirius questioned.

"Well, the plant-thing that was controlling you apparently had your body in some sort of stasis. However, you still aged a lot. Your body - well, it isn't pretty." Harry winced.

"I'm not dead, at least." Sirius finally said. "How bad is it? My body, that is."

"Your body will be fine, Sirius. I just wanted to warn you before you woke up. I will be giving you a few doses of Elixir of Youth and Elixir of Life, so you should wind up in your prime. Also, I think I forget to mention that we found an entire alien race of beautiful blue women?"

Sirius looked up, and smiled gleefully. "Wait a second- Elixir of Youth? Elixir of Life? What aren't you telling me?"

"I have a Philosopher's Stone, Sirius. Age really isn't an issue, and Nicholas left me all of his notebooks and research equipment when he died. You'll be right as rain in no time." Harry smirked.

"Nicholas who? Wait. Not Nicholas Flamel?" Sirius questioned eagerly, a wide grin on his face.

"Yep, Nicholas Flamel. Apparently he was waiting for the 'proper caretaker for his legacy' who would actually be able to carry out a few experiments that he had outlined in his journals. Once he found that in me, Nick and Perenelle decided to move on in peace. So I've got a Philosopher's stone, along with six or seven hundred years worth of alchemical research." Harry explained, blushing a little.

"Hey, Prongslet. You're one lucky bastard." Sirius muttered.

"I assure you, my parents were happily married," Harry shot back. The corners of his mouth curled upwards. Sirius looked at him and sighed.

"You know, I really missed actual human interaction. So many years stuck on this dusty ball of rubble really sucked. And I never really forgot about that battle, in the Department of Mysteries. I just kept blaming myself for everything, you know? For getting myself killed, and abandoning everyone again, and that's not even counting James and Lil-"

"That's not your fault, Sirius! That's all Pettigrew's fault." Harry cut him off, angrily furrowing his brows.

"Wormtail! That reminds me, Harry. What happened to Wormtail?" Sirius asked clenching his fists.

"He was forced to kill himself as a side-effect of a life-debt he owed me. Strangled himself to death." Harry grinned a predatory smile that . "It was slow. I watched."

"Good." Then, clearly thinking of other topics, Sirius asked, "Whatever happened to the rest of the Order?" Harry pondered his question, before slowly answering,

"Sirius, The Order didn't make it through the war. When Dumbledore was murdered-"

"Dumbledore was killed?!"Sirius interjected, unable to contain his surprise.

"Yeah. He died in my sixth year. After his death, the Order fractured. Everyone went their own separate ways, until Ron, Hermione, and I finally managed to find a way to off Voldemort. There was a huge battle at Hogwarts, where I killed him in single combat. Not many of the remaining Order members survived that battle, and by the time I turned twenty-four, the last living member had died. You and I are the last living members of the Order, Sirius."

Harry's godfather stared in numb disbelief. One of his hands trembled uncontrollably. Seeking to prevent his godfather's descent into shock, Harry pulled a cracked ring from one of his fingers, and held up a certain pebble.

"How well do you remember the tale of the three brothers, Sirius?" Harry whispered.

"Not well," he said, eyes locked on the stone. "You're not telling me-" Sirius started, before Harry interrupted him.

"Wand, Cloak, and Stone." He said, pulling out each item. "I am the Master of Death, as I have successfully reunited the three Hallows. So I'm going to use the Stone to show you the rest of the Order, alright? But first, Sirius, you need to know that the longer a shade is on this plane of existence, the more pain it is in. I will lend the stone to you for an hour. Then you will give it back, and never use it again. Do you understand?"

"I-yes." Sirius answered, dejected and hopeful at the same time.

"This will be an hour here, in your mind. The stone works inside mindscapes, as well as in the real world. I'll spend the time cleaning up the rest of your mind, and I'll show you what we're up against when you're finished. Alright?"

"Yes, I understand, just please give me the stone!" Sirius pleaded.

Harry dropped the pebble into his godfather's hands and walked away, disappearing into the swirling inky mindscape.

….

An hour later, within Sirius's mental landscape, the inky blackness and the musty, crypt-like environment had gradually disappeared, as Harry worked to clean up Sirius's mental clutter. Harry walked back through a peaceful series of rooms painted in red and gold, to find Sirius crying happily, with the Stone on a table, far away from his hands. As Harry approached, Sirius jumped up, passed him the stone, and gave Harry a massive hug.

"James and Lily showed up and set me straight." Sirius said, voice hoarse. "They told me about the Reapers, and how you fixed up my shattered mind. Then they told me to go and live my life and do something productive, instead of agonizing over them. They actually suggested fixing up the colony here, which sounds great. I think I'll be doing that for the foreseeable future."

"That's good. I'll leave you a few liters of Elixir of Life, and I'll administer the Elixir of youth as soon as you wake up. You'll feel like you're in your twenties. You'll look like it, too." Harry explained.

"That's great!" Harry's godfather exclaimed.

"Right now, though, I'm going to show you some of what I've been doing. I'll pull you into a few of my memories, and show you around. Then I'll wake you up." Sirius indicated his understanding with a nod, and replied,

"Got it."

….

"Um...Harry? What were you saying earlier about blue women?"

"Down, boy."

….

Jane Shepard was worried. She had just watched Harry yell something, and now he seemed to be in a trance. The Thorian seemed to be twitching, but not doing anything especially abnormal, until it seemed to shudder.

Then, with a splat-plop noise, a pair of pods on the wall split open, releasing two figures.

One of the bodies was that of an asari, with a strange green tint to her skin. The other was the normal hue of a human, with pink skin.

The human, strangely excited, stood up immediately, and yelled,

"Dammit Harry! I really am old!" The green-eyed wizard grumbled a little, before calling,

"I already told you that you aged. Don't get your panties in a bunch!" Despite his aggravated tone, Harry walked over to the elderly human, before pulling out a vial of some sort of glowing liquid. The old man downed the substance in a single gulp, before shuddering a little.

Jane watched with unbridled interest as the man's wrinkles faded, his hair darkened, and he gained some weight and height. He seemed to have regained a large helping of vitality that had previously been missing.

There were a few seconds of silence as Harry passed the man a few bottles of a golden glowing substance. The green asari was still kneeling on the ferrocrete floor.

Jane took the opportunity to ask, "Who the hell are they?"

"That is Shiala, and this is my godfather, Sirius Black. He is also a wizard." Harry's reply threw her for a loop. Here was another practitioner of Harry's strange craft.

Then Jane heard a cry, and an asari voice sob, "Thank you!" And the beautiful green asari threw herself at Sirius, who sputtered, and asked,

"For what?"

"For taking away the voices." She said, slightly confused. "Saren's dreadnaught, Sovereign, can affect your mind, twisting you to agree with his way of thinking. It indoctrinates anyone who is near it for too long. I thought nothing could remove its whispers."

Sirius looked at her, then looked at Harry.

"I thought you were joking about the race of beautiful women!" He said, surprised and awed. "I thought you said they were blue though."

Jane was confused. Somehow, 'Sirius' didn't know about the council races.

The asari spoke again, now even more confused. "Who removed the whispers, then, if you didn't?"

Sirius pointed at Harry, who quickly backpedaled, saying,

"I did it, but Sirius probably could as well."

The asari then walked over to him, and introduced herself.

"My name is Shiala. I was an acolyte of matriarch Benezia. I was... sacrificed to the Thorian in exchange for something called the Cipher, the ancestral memory of the Protheans. I would like to give you this collection of knowledge, as thanks for what you have done."

Here Liara piped up, no longer able to stay silent.

"Could I please have the memory? I've spent my whole life studying the Protheans. That memory would be incredible. It would let me-"

She was cut off by Shiala, who gently said,

"I'm sorry. I cannot give you the memory. It would destroy your mind in an instant. I see no way to safely give you the memory."

"I can do it." Said Harry. "I can transfer the memory. I'll have to get it first, but that's easy with legilimency. Hmm… Although actually integrating it-"

"Harry, what's going on?" Jane asked carefully, trying to understand the situation.

"This asari has the Cipher," Harry explained. "Sirius was also imprisoned by the Thorian. I freed both of them. We should probably destroy the plant now, before it sends any more plant-inferi at us."

"What are Inferi?" Jane asked, curious.

"Plant-Inferi, Harry? That's certainly new. What happened?" Sirius's voice cut through the muttering.

"Let's just kill the bloody plant before we spend any more time talking, guys. Are we suicidal or what?" Harry called impatiently, as he passed out a few incendiary grenades.

"You're right. Let's kill the plant first." Jane replied, somewhat sheepishly.

" _Incendio!"_ Harry muttered, causing a bright ball of flame to engulf the Thorian. The plant writhed and charred, but did not die. The Thorian's carapace bulged in some places, contracted in others, and let a hoarse shriek ring out from what could loosely qualify as a mouth. The appendage lowered, and with a heaving splatter, replicas of the recently mind-controlled pair began falling from the plant's gullet. Inferi screeched, and began climbing up from lower levels of the skyscraper. Noxious green mist began to pour from the Thorian's bulbous central growth.

Harry kept up a constant stream of fire blasting from his palms, charring and burning the Thorian. Bulbous tentacles squirmed and blackened, but still the plant contracted and convulsed.

"Cover, find cover!" Jane yelled, bringing her gun to bear. The first wave of inferi was repelled, until a replica of Shiala stepped through a door and unleashed a biotic singularity. Wrex roared as it picked him up, temporarily removing him from the fight. However, the singularity was soon ended when the real Shiala loosed a few blasts from an especially vicious looking shotgun towards the impostor. Wrex grunted in thanks, and proceeded to beat a inferi to death with one of its own legs. Acid sprayed across the room.

The fight continued, as a fresh wave of inferi climbed up the elevator shaft from below. Sirius cast repeated inferno charms, alternating between the standard _Incendio_ and the more power-hungry _Flagrante_ as needed.

His concentration was broken as a green copy of Sirius rounded a corner, and began waving its hands at the group. No magic was cast, nor was any effect felt. Clearly the Thorian could not comprehend the nuances of magic. A Piercing hex later, and the replica of Sirius was down for the count.

Harry's godfather watched more Inferi pour out of a doorway, in a mass of grasping hands and screeching toothless mouths. Gunfire devastated the horde of hostile plants, viciously tearing through fibrous limbs. A few more resilient Inferi crawled onwards, missing legs and other appendages. Sirius shivered. He was still having trouble coping with his imprisonment. And now, in a fight for his life, his distractions were showing. He was making rookie mistakes. He needed to finish this fight quickly.

Suddenly, a thought popped into his head. If he wanted this to end fast, he had one weapon left in his arsenal that had never failed him. It was the same spell that had failed against his godson as a child.

" _Avada Kedavra!_ " Sirius cried, wand pointing towards the Thorian. The green bolt drew the attention of all around, as the blast of rushing silence seemed to fill the room. Impacting just above dead center of the plant's central mass, the spell created a massive black spot of decay on the Thorian's body which began to spread. However, based off of the slow rate of decomposition, it was clear that the plant wouldn't be dying any time soon without more firepower. Sirius pouted.

"Don't you muggles have any bigger guns?" Sirius asked, frustrated.

"Oh! Hey, Wrex, can you toss me the package we brought?" Jane called. An angelic smile stole over her face, as she grasped an alarmingly yellow gun. She pushed a button on the trigger, and it began to glow. A few warning beeps later, Jane was happily painting the Thorian as a target for her M-5 Cain, a weapon fondly nicknamed the 'nuke launcher' by heavy weapons specialists throughout the Alliance.

 ***Boom!***

A massive blast shook the entire floor. A wave of concussive force launched every loose item away from the impact site. The entire building rocked, as supports bucked and groaned.

The central body of the Thorian shook, and then fell with a loud screech. The tentacles that held it to the walls, no longer held taut, fell, limp against the ferrocrete. Black mold slowly crawled up the motionless tendrils.

Sirius was bashed into a wall headfirst by the shockwave, and collapsed stunned on the floor. Insensate, he watched a Inferi crawl closer to him. It's legs had been blasted off at some point, so it merely crawled on hands and stump. Hissing green acid dripped out of the plant's torso as it dragged itself along the floor. As it approached, it let out a gurgling shriek.

Startled, Sirius realized the gravity of his situation. He scrabbled behind him for his wand, and crawled backwards. He kept his eyes on the Inferi, however, and could not find his wand in the dirt. His backwards crawl was stopped abruptly by the wall he had been smashed against. Idly, Sirius recognized the dull pain on the back of his head as a major concussion.

The Thorian Inferi crawling towards Sirius slowed, and it began to decay at an accelerated rate. Sirius sighed in relief. That only seemed to occur when one of these strange plant-Inferi died, so he wouldn't be in any trouble. He relaxed, leaning his head against the wall.

Suddenly, Sirius jolted in fear as one of the strange plant-inferi let out a screech mere inches from his face. He raised his arms, desperately hoping to protect himself. He opened his eyes, only to see the creature's grey-green mouth coming closer and closer. He heard a hissing in it's throat, and flinched, knowing he was about to be drenched in powerful acid. However, Sirius could do nothing. His blood froze.

Just as the creature tilted its head back in order to aim its acid spray properly, a bolt of blue power slammed into the Inferius, knocking it hard against a nearby wall. The creature stood, and took a few shambling steps in his direction. From the bottom of the ancient elevator shaft, a soft ' _thump'_ was heard, as the Thorian's charred corpse splattered against solid stone. The Inferius _screamed_ , and dissolved into acid. Shiala stepped into view. Rushing over to him, she asked,

"Are you alright? Do you have any acid on you?" Sirius let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and stood on quivering legs.

"Concussion, probably major. Where's Harry? What's happened?" He tried to walk, but nearly fell during his first few steps.

"Here," Shiala said. "Put one hand over my shoulder. Let's find the rest of the group."

The pair walked around, each supporting the other, until they found the rest of the Ground Team. They were on a ledge, open to the outside air. The Normandy's shuttle sat nearby, doors open wide. Most of the team was seated, quietly chatting. Harry was attending to injuries, magically healing anything worse than a sprain.

Almost the entire team showed some battle damage. A few discolored patches on Tali's envirosuit marked where she had gotten too close to a spray of acid. Wrex would have a new scar across his hump, and Ashley's formerly dislocated arm still hurt "Like a _bitch!_ ".

However, Kaiden had the worst of it. He had been blasted into a sharp steel pole of some sort by the shockwave caused by Shepard's M-5 Cain. The jagged hunk of metal had pierced through the combat mesh covering his back, and had extended out of his stomach on the other side. Of course, the injury was magically fixed in a span of minutes. Harry had shook his head, taken a few photos with his omni-tool, and let out a long whistle before treating the wound. He calmly vanished most of the sharp metal spar, cast an overpowered ' _Episkey!_ " and pronounced Kaiden to be fit as a fiddle. He took great pleasure in watching Kaiden's eyes bug out when Harry showed him the pictures of his wound. Then, with pompous formality, Harry presented the small amount of the metal chunk that he had not vanished.

"Use it as a paperweight, or better yet, frame it, and hang it by a picture of your wound." Was Harry's advice. "Along with the scar, it'll be one hell of a keepsake."

Then Sirius and Shiala appeared, and carefully made their way down the rubble-covered stairway towards the makeshift medical encampment. Sirius slurred,

"I got a cucushin. Muh hed hit a wall." Which Shiala translated, with a giggle,

"He has a concussion. Probably a serious one."

"Yep. Thass ma' name. Shiriush. I got a shiriush cucushin. Get it? Shiriush. Ficsh me up, maddum Pomfrey." Shiala could not attempt to translate that over the sound of her own hysterical laughter. Harry's grin was contagious, as he took a few minutes of video before casting an overpowered " _Episkey!_ " at his godfather's forehead. A few seconds later, Sirius blinked and looked around.

"Fuck. What did I say?" he asked, clued in by the laughter. "Whenever I get concussed, I spew nonsense. Usually hilarious nonsense, unfortunately. Last time it was that bad, I told James that he'd make great venison, and started drunkenly chasing him around the room with a waffle iron."

At this point, every human on the ground team was at least chuckling. Ashley and Harry were both in hysterics, though Jane was almost giggling. Over the next few minutes, the conversation grew more serious. Of course, that was only after Harry showed his godfather the video of his concussed antics.

"Why are you all laughing?" Sirius asked, deadpan. "Head injuries are a very -serious- matter." That only spurred further laughter from the Ground Team, now coming down off of their adrenaline high.

Nonetheless, the conversation sobered quickly, as Shiala spoke about the Cipher.

"It is a way to understand the prothean people intimately. It is basically a packet of knowledge that includes their language, some etiquette, and their primary method of communications. You will probably need it sooner, rather than later, if Saren wants it. When would you like me to give you the Cipher, Shepard?"

"Ah, fuck it. Now's fine. How will this work?" Jane asked.

"Tilt your head back, look me in the eyes, and keep eye contact. Then you must _embrace eternity!_ " Shiala's eyeballs turned black, and the memory transfer started.

All Jane saw for the first few seconds were blurred images, which quickly gained clarity and detail. Then the transfer really began. Images, concepts, ideas blasted their way into Jane's skull. What felt like hours of thinking and processing turned into seconds when Jane slowly slipped back into reality. The crew was still arrayed around her and Shiala, and Jane noticed that her omni-tool's clock had barely changed.

"That's one hell of an experience." Jane mumbled. "Unfortunately, it still doesn't help us find the Conduit." she said, louder this time. "Do you happen to know what the Conduit actually is? Am I missing something?"

"No." Shiala replied. "I don't know anything about it either. However, Saren does. As of my sacrifice to the Thorian, Saren knew where and what it is, but he felt that he was so far ahead of his pursuers that he could briefly work on some other project. Although, until you know where his lab is, you'll be hard pressed to find any information about an artifact called 'The Conduit'. Saren spent years searching for it, according to Matriarch Benezia."

"Alright." Jane sighed. "That's more than we had before. Thank you. By the way, what are you planning on doing, now that you're free?" Shiala pondered that question for a moment.

"I think I'll stay with Sirius and fix up the colony." she replied. "I was responsible for at least some of the devastation, so I should help rebuild it. Sirius already spoke a little about remaining here for a while to familiarize himself with the world and the technology, so he might be staying here as well." Sirius glanced at Shiala, then back at Harry and the rest of the group.

"Yeah." Sirius explained, "I wasn't feeling too great during the fight. I'm planning on staying here and cleaning up, as well as looking through my old memories and brushing up on my Auror skills. By the way, I have your omni-tool address, Harry, and I think I'll be able to contact you with it. Although, I guess if all else fails, I can use a Patronus messenger. We'll certainly have to keep in touch."

Conversation continued for a while, until Fai Dan's hoarse voice came over the radio.

"Commander Shepard? If you're there, I'd like to thank you on behalf of the entire Feros colony. That blasted plant has had us drugged up to our ears for far too long. Thanks to you, we are finally free."

"It wasn't just me." Jane replied. "I wouldn't have succeeded without my team. This victory belongs to all of us."

"Even so," Fai Dan added, "We will always remember you and your crew as the saviors of Feros. Without you, we might never have been removed from the creature's thrall. Now we can finally become an actual Alliance colony, and avail ourselves of all the immigration requests that we've been receiving. If you wish, you may continue your mission at any time. I think we have the situation well in hand now."

"Alright. That's good to know." Jane stated, mildly preoccupied. "We do have two people here who would like to stay with the colony. They were both under the Thorian's control. We'll drop them off at the colony's spaceport, if that's all right."

After making sure that the entire ground crew was in perfect health, Jane loaded everyone into the shuttle. With a clang, the doors closed, and the engines activated. Slowly, the shuttle rose off the ground, and hovered out into the open air. The engine's hum changed in pitch, as the shuttle activated it's propulsion modules and accelerated. Jane directed the vehicle to one of the shuttle landing pads in the center of the colony, and landed skillfully.

Shiala and Sirius disembarked, and began to walk towards a group of colonists waiting for their arrival. However, Sirius quickly turned around, and embraced his godson.

"Be careful, Sirius. I won't lose you again." Harry whispered to his godfather, before passing him a paired magical mirror, like the ones the Marauders had used. After one final hug, Harry and his godfather parted. Sirius stepped away from the shuttle and waved. The vehicle's door slowly slid closed, and Harry's godfather disappeared from his sight.

A few minutes later, the shuttle had docked with the Normandy. After a lengthy decontamination process, the exhausted crew stumbled to their bunks, and fell asleep.

Debriefing the next morning was particularly painful, as Jane took pleasure in waking everyone up at the crack of dawn, despite the tiring events of the previous day. Questions were asked, actions were criticized and complimented, and what could have been a stuffy, boring meeting turned into something that could be reasonably classified as 'Team Bonding'.

However, while the general mood of the debriefing session was jovial and friendly, the primary issue was one that had everyone anxious, to a degree. It boiled down to a very simple conversation.

"The conduit is somewhere beyond the Mu Relay-"

"Where did you say the Mu Relay was?"

"-Shit."


	7. Explanations and Explosions

**Hello, readers! You may already be able to tell, but updates are slowing down. Unfortunately, life happens, and the excrement tends to hit the oscillating device with alarming regularity. I will, however, continue to write until this story is finished.**

 **On another note, I do really enjoy getting messages; especially those that tell me when I've screwed something up. If I have a sentence that just stops halfway through, for example, I would absolutely LOVE to receive PMs about it. If you think I'm doing something wrong, or missed some of the lore, tell me! I'll edit and replace.**

 **Also, A lot of writing in this chapter is stuff directly quoted from the game. Obviously, I make no profit from this, nor do I intend any infringement of any kind.**

 **If you enjoy reading this, feel free to give me ideas! I have the next few chapters planned out, but additional input always helps. (or at least gives me ideas on what** _ **not**_ **to do.)**

…...

"Harry? Matriarch Benezia wishes to speak to you in the medical bay." Dr. Chakwas' voice spoke over the radio channel.

The Normandy was on the way to the nearest relay, as they currently had no leads. The crew was excited to figure out where the Conduit was, but dismayed to find that the Mu Relay, the only way to get to the Conduit, had been lost in the dense nebula created by a two-century old supernova.

Liara had been at once excited and worried. She knew so much about the Protheans and their tech, but none of that could help right now. Her mother had been indoctrinated. And even after searching through all of the Cipher, she had found nothing about reversing indoctrination. She could recognize all of the signs, and was desperately hopeful that whatever Harry had done had removed the indoctrination. Now Benezia was awake.

When Liara arrived, Harry was already in the medbay engaged in peaceful conversation with a distraught Benezia. Liara looked at her mother, then at Harry, with a questioning gaze. He smiled distractedly, gave a nod, and left the room to allow the pair some privacy.

"She's fine. I broke her indoctrination back on Noveria." Harry whispered, as Liara entered the room.

Overjoyed, Liara rushed to her mother, and the two spent hours reminiscing and talking. However, Benezia had some troubling news.

"Saren knows where the Mu Relay is. He will have it's location in his laboratory. However, I don't actually know where his lab is. I've only ever seen it over vid-conferences. He knows what and where the Conduit is, as well. He is currently busy with something and unable to go there immediately, but I do not know why."

….

Not much later, Harry received a message from Jane, asking him to come up to her quarters. He quickly put everything he had been working on into his pockets, and made his way to the lift.

Upon reaching the captain's quarters, Harry poked the intercom, and announced his presence. A few seconds later, the door hissed open, and Harry was treated to a view of a well-kept bedroom. Jane was off to the side in a small spartan office-space, where a pair of chairs were arranged.

"Hey, Harry." Jane began, somewhat unsurely. "I'd like to ask a few questions about your magic."

"Fire away." The wizard responded.

"I've made a list-" Harry sighed theatrically. Jane restarted her sentence, saying "Alright, here goes. Is there any limit to what you can do with magic? Is it similar to biotics? Can you use magic to find the Conduit? How did-"

"Whoa, slow down! I need to be able to keep up with your questions if I want to answer them!" Harry joked. "To answer your first question, there isn't really a limit on what I can do. Now I don't mean that I could shift a planet out of orbit, or something like that, but -with enough time and enough energy, I could do some pretty terrible things. I showed you what I did to Klendagon. That should serve as an example."

"What do you mean, enough time, enough energy?" Jane queried.

"Well, there are all sorts of methods of harvesting magical energy. A lot of them are dangerous, some can be fatal, and the vast majority are generally a bad idea to even attempt. However, with risk comes reward. So, for example, if I went and did something absurdly stupid and unfathomably dangerous, like human sacrifice, I could probably vaporize a good chunk of a continent. However, that's black magic, and stuff that evil will generally do all sorts of nasty stuff, like instantly consign your soul to hell for eternity and twist your mind into a pretzel." Harry explained.

"Human sacrifice?" Jane furrowed her brow. "What about the Incan and Mayan civilizations? If I recall my history correctly, they practiced human sacrifice for hundreds of years. What were they doing?"

"They unknowingly used it to try and bring about the end of the world once their next 'long count' calendar cycle ended. They nearly succeeded, actually. A lot of people predicting the end of the world were actually magicals who thought they were about to be wiped off the face of the planet. Thankfully, the world is still in one piece, as Armageddon was averted when a convention of Cursebreakers figured out how to reverse the doomsday device." Harry stated.

"Were you there? You said you were born in the year 1980. You would have been- what, thirty? Thirty-two?" Jane asked.

"No, I wasn't around past 2009. I jumped through the Veil early that year."

"The Veil?" Jane queried.

"The Veil of Death. It's an artifact in the Department of Mysteries, which is a division of the British Ministry of Magic." Harry quickly explained, seeing the confused expression plastered across Jane's face. "Supposedly, it instantly killed anyone who passed through, but I discovered that wasn't the case. So I jumped through in order to test my theory." Harry winced. Jane leaned back in her chair.

"What happened? She asked, after a brief pause.

"That's when I landed on Lethe. I showed you that memory before the mission on Feros."

"What did you do to kill the Reaper on Lethe?"Jane questioned. "You certainly managed to take a chunk out of Klendagon's surface with that."

"I basically fused a few different sources of power into a big ball of turbulent energy, and unleashed it all at once in a single spell. Lightning from the clouds, pure energy from a nearby Ley line, and some more power, intent, and direction from myself. It's not going to be something I'll repeat any time soon, though. I drastically overtaxed myself on Lethe."Harry answered.

"You talked about a 'Ley line," Jane began, "But I still don't know what that actually means."

"A ley line," Harry paused. "Ley lines, plural, are thin bands that criss-cross a planet wherever magic is most concentrated. Usually, they appear between cities, magical hotspots, and especially powerful magical creatures. For example, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of the oldest magical places in existence, was at the center of a massive spiderweb of Ley lines. The only places more charged with magical energy on Earth are Shangri-La, Stonehenge, the ruins of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, and Tenochtitlan."

"How is Tenochtitlan so powerful? The Aztecs were conquered more than five or six hundred years ago." Jane interjected.

"Remember how I told you about their inclination towards human sacrifice? Well, their doomsday device was basically an extradimensional entity. Apparently they were trying to summon their deity, but they got something else. It masqueraded as the object of their worship, and corrupted the minds of their Priests. The priests, under the influence of what they believed to be their god, began the practice of human sacrifice. That continued for a few hundred years, until Hernan Cortes conquered them all after the being they thought was their deity abandoned them. Cortes got gold, power, and weapons from the entity in exchange for the genocide of the native civilizations. Then things go from written fact to guesswork. Somehow, Cortes locked the entity in an extradimensional pocket. It got loose at some point, and began leeching power from nearby ley-lines. Then it set its sights on the end of the Mayan Calendar ritual. Every 'long count,' the calendar would release a phenomenal amount of power into the nearest magical receptacle or ritual circle. Basically, if the entity managed to exist until December 12, 2012, it would be free to do whatever it wanted. Since it was supernaturally homicidal at all times, It was generally assumed that anything that powerful and that motivated would be able to bring about the end of the world. Another thing about magic: Names, events, and beliefs all have power. If you have a name, you can do all sorts of nasty things to a person. Names provide direction. Endings have power, as well. Endings provide limits. That's how the entity was going to free itself. It would be present for the end of a magical count which signified the end of the world to hundreds of thousands of people. Beginnings are even more significant. For example, it's much easier to unmake an item whose creation you were present at, or kill a creature whose birth you were present for. Beliefs, also, have magical weight. Intent, a form of belief, shapes every bit of magic ever cast, and every living creature has at least a little bit of magic. Muggles, or non-magical people, have magic too, just much less of it in comparison to a wizard or witch. They generate and store a lot less magical energy, and release it much less frequently. However, it usually only appears as very weak accidental magic, and generally is driven by the belief of the caster. For example, you see some old masters of martial arts who can barely walk, but could kick down trees. That's all intent-based magic. The power of intent is also what drives most ghost sightings and spiritual experiences, as well as, in many cases, feats of strength usually attributed to adrenaline. For example, parents tend to have a sixth sense for trouble around their kids. That's actually been studied, and it's been proven to be at least partially due to magic. Cities and high-population areas are high-magic locations, for the muggle world, meaning that many of the world's larger cities have extensive Ley lines."

"What about the Citadel? That's got millions of beings on board. Does that station have Ley lines?" Jane asked.

"Yeah, it does, although they're not very distinct." Harry considered. "If I wanted to be able to access one of the Citadel's Ley lines, I'd need to be either on the presidium, or in the central portion of one of the wards. Each arm of the station has thin Ley lines wrapping around it like a ribcage. If I were in New York, for example, where the Ley lines are miles wide, I could access one from almost thirty miles outside of the city."

"What does 'accessing a ley line' do? How do you do it?" Jane queried, fascination brightening her smile.

"Well,"Harry sat back and collected his thoughts for a few seconds. "Accessing a ley line basically gives me free magical energy. However, it's really difficult to do, and there are very few people who can do it. I think the list is limited to myself, Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle, Gellert Grindelwald, and Merlin. Of those names, I'm the only one still living. I also think a few figures from Greek, Chinese, and Tibetan mythology were able to do it, but I'm not certain."

"That's interesting. What about other ways of gathering magic? You've listed human sacrifice,"Jane wrinkled her nose." and Ley lines. Are there any others?"

"Yes, there are."Harry stated. "Good question. I can gather energy from atmospheric and natural events, like thunderstorms, tornadoes, and the tides. Those run the gamut, in terms of knowledge and skill required, as well as how likely they are to kill you. It's also possible to store power in some artifacts, or to convert it into something else. For example, I power the enchantments on my fleets with this." Harry held up a small blue gem. Light seemed to flicker through it as if it were rippling water. "This lets me send power across the galaxy to be distributed across my shipyards. They then use it to power enchantments and wards for my ships."

"If you can send things across the galaxy with magic," Jane hmm-ed briefly. "Could you find the Conduit with magic?"

"Not quickly," Harry said. "The last time I had to track something down with magic, it took me weeks. So I could. However, I can't get coordinates, and it would take a _long_ time. Plus, I already tried the crystal-ball method, and I searched through any and all caches of information accessible to me, and came up empty. Most of my options are out, for magical tracking and divining."

"Damn." Jane cursed. "Well, it was worth a shot, at least. I guess- Oh, I do have one last question for you, actually, before you have to go."

"Damn, you're right. My next shift starts soon." Harry cursed, and stood up. "What was your question?"

"Why did you tell me all of that?" Jane wondered. "Some of the information you shared was pretty personal."

"You're an ally. I've fought with you at my side, and I know you're an honorable person. Besides, I never could deny a pretty redhead." Harry joked, as he walked out the door.

….

An hour later, Jane received a call from the Turian Councillor.

"Spectre Shepard. I hope your day is going well." The turian stated haughtily. "The Council's day, and therefore my day, is not. A salarian STG team investigating strange readings on Virmire stumbled onto what they believed to be a cloning facility. Their next report came in the form of a distress call, which contained only static, and the name Saren. Now they've gone dark, and we have no way to extract them. Your mission is to get them out, and deal with any issues that arise." stated the Councillor.

"Thank you for the tip. We'll set a course for Virmire immediately." Jane replied. After the hologram shut off, if one listened closely, Jane's muttered "Arrogant birdbrain…" was just audible above the engine's hum.

….

The ground crew arrived in Virmire's orbit a few hours later. After a short drive in the Mako, Jane arrived at the salarian base camp. Immediately, she went to speak to the commanding officer, a salarian captain named Kirrahe.

As soon as Kirrahe saw the ground crew, he asked, "How are you going to attack the facility?"

"What?" Jane fumbled.

"It is necessary to attack the facility. What is your plan of attack? The facility must be taken out of enemy hands." Kirrahe said, more slowly.

"What are our options?" Jane asked, quickly switching to a militaristic mindset.

"We have two choices: Either direct frontal assault, or a diversionary force with a stealth team infiltrating." Kirrahe stated.

"Why not just nuke the facility from orbit?" interjected Harry.

He was very off-put by the salarian's answer of "We must gather as much intel as possible, and then perhaps we can engage the enemy with a surprise assault to place a warhead at the center of the facility."

"No!" Harry said, "It doesn't work like that! If we want data, then sure we can infiltrate, but a nuke would vaporize the facility if we set it off _here._ If we're absolutely set on an infiltration team, we can do that, but my guess is that you wanted to send your own team to try and erase any data on the genophage. It's standard operating procedure."

"I don't know how you know that, human, but you may be sure that we will be doing _exactly_ that." The salarian replied testily. "I will obey the orders of my dalatrass, and my dalatrass orders that all STG teams will immediately destroy any cure for the genophage, no matter what the cost." Wrex huffed, furious. The Krogan quickly stomped away some distance, anger practically pouring off of him. Jane groaned.

"Alright! Captain Kirrahe!" Jane exclaimed. "Could you brief us more fully on the situation? What _exactly_ is your plan of attack?"

"My team will be heading to the laboratory, in order to assess the likelihood of an existing cure for the genophage. If we find such a cure, we must destroy it, and activate a nuclear warhead as close as possible to the cure's source." the STG captain stated somewhat regretfully. "That plan of action will likely be a suicide mission, but it is one we must undertake. If a cure was released by our action or inaction, the consequences would be," The salarian paused. "Unimaginable."

"Didn't you say this was a cloning facility?" Jane asked. "Saren couldn't possibly have a cure, otherwise he'd have to take care of an enormous amount of krogan children. Can you see him doing that? It's vastly more likely that he's merely dividing embryos, and growing short-lived clones for overwhelming numbers, not skill."

"Cloning is not a cure for the genophage," Harry quipped. "It is merely a tool used by depraved lunatics to solve a lack of manpower."

"Still, if there is even the slightest chance that there is even a partial genophage cure in the facility, we must destroy it." Kirrahe helplessly stated. "That's standard operational procedure, all the way from the top. As soon as an operative confirms that a target is involved in krogan reproduction of any sort, it is immediately bumped up the priority ladder. It's nothing personal. Please, tell your krogan crewmember that. I have no interest in damaging group morale."

Jane walked slowly towards Wrex. She had a fuming krogan to pacify

…...

"Shepard." The old krogan growled. "You really believe the shit that salarian's shoveling?"

"No, Wrex. The Genophage is wrong, but we can't do anything about it now. Besides, we're fairly certain that this is a cloning facility - you know, growing embryos in tanks, not actually using krogan females to carry foetuses through the gestation period. Brute-force cloning shouldn't require a cure for the genophage. It just requires lots of raw materials in the form of special nutrients, etcetera. Right now, Wrex, there is absolutely nothing we can do in regards to the genophage. However, there just happen to be a shit-ton of cloned krogan between us and the laboratory. I'm about to take the ground team and have ourselves some target practice. Do you want to come along?"

…...

Half an hour later, the assault was well under way. An assortment of salarians, some of the Normandy's ground crew, Jane, and Harry, snuck into the cloning facility, while the remaining forces created a diversion with a frontal assault on the base.

Along the way to the lab, the infiltration team discovered a wide assortment of data caches, including massive amounts of information about the effects of Reaper Indoctrination and tactics. Unfortunately, they found nothing about Illos or the Mu relay, until they reached Saren's laboratory.

They searched through the lab for any and all information on the whereabouts of the Relay fruitlessly, until Tali held up an OSD with a gasp and an excited exclamation.

"I've got it!" She cried. The rest of the ground crew turned to stare at her. "Here are the coordinates."

"Great!" Jane added. "Now let's blow this place and bug out." Suddenly, something caught Jane's eye.

"Is that another beacon?" she questioned, half to herself, as she approached the central area of the lab.

" **You are not Saren."** A voice intoned, as a red outline of the Reaper, Sovereign, appeared by the beacon.

The infiltration team spun towards the beacon, weapons raised.

"Why do you harvest the galaxy? Why the cycles? What could you possibly gain?" Jane asked the hologram, desperately hoping for an answer.

" **We are beyond your comprehension. You cannot stop the harvest. You cannot halt the cycles. You will fall."** answered the Reaper. Jane sighed.

"We are humanity. We will always fight you. We will unite the races of the galaxy against you. We-" she said, gaining confidence as she spoke. Then, she was interrupted by the Reaper, who stated,

" **This exchange is over."** The hologram flickered out.

There was a brief second of silence, until Joker's voice came over the radio. In a worried tone, he said,

"Commander? The, uh, Reaper, just changed course. It's now heading towards the lab. And- er, I'd recommend getting out of there fast. It just pulled a turn that would tear most of our ships in half."

Jane cursed. "Alright. Let's plant the nuke. How long do we have til the reaper is on top of us?"she queried.

"Twenty minutes, max. Hurry." Replied Joker's urgent voice.

Ten minutes later, the nuke was armed, and the countdown had started. Harry didn't want to risk any chance of Saren defusing the bomb, so he cast a notice-me-not charm, conjured a replica of the bomb, and cast a Fidelius charm over the real nuke. Nobody even looked strangely at the replica once Harry lowered his notice-me-not spell. Satisfied that the bomb couldn't be defused, Harry caught Jane's attention.

"The bomb is ready. Let's get the hell out of here!"

"What if they defuse it?" Jane asked, worried.

"They can't." Harry snapped. "Let's go." Almost as if the pilot had sensed his words, the Normandy's only shuttle swooped down to land by the infiltration team.

"Everyone on board!" Jane called. "Now!"

A few moments later, the team at the comms tower sent a distress call:

"To all strike teams reading this: we have a massive amount of Geth and krogan hostiles incoming on our position. We can't extract without close air support. The salarians don't have a gunship, and unless I missed something in the Normandy cargo bay, we don't have one either. What are our orders, Shepard? I don't think we'll make it without some serious help." Ashley's resigned voice said over the radio.

Closely following that message came Harry's voice. "Don't do anything suicidal, Ashley. I'm on my way."

Jane's head whipped towards Harry. He was standing by the edge of the roof, looking downwards, off the side. As she watched, he leaned off of the side of the building, and fell over the edge. Jane rushed to the edge, shocked, until she watched a strange gunship rise over the roof of the building. Harry was clearly visible in the cockpit. He cheekily flashed Jane a thumbs-up, before blasting off towards the communications tower.

…..

Ashley Williams was angry. She'd never been one to glorify 'Noble Sacrifice', but right now she seemed to be well on her way to a very prestigious medal - awarded posthumously.

Peeking out of cover, Ashley watched hostile Geth and krogan dropping down from a transport. Then she watched another Geth dropship land on the other side of the platform, and begin dropping colossi and armatures. Ashley cursed. She looked up, and saw a small squadron of Geth fighters closing in. She closed her eyes and slumped.

"Looks like this is it." Ashley muttered to the salarian next to her.

"Then let's go down fighting!" The salarian cried energetically, as he grabbed a fresh heatsink.

Ashley smiled sadly, and said, "I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Ashley Williams, Alliance Marines. May I ask your name?"

"Jondum Bau, Special Tasks Group, and Council spectre anonymously attached to this mission. I-" he introduced himself, but was cut off by a roaring noise, and an explosion. Both combatants turned their heads, to see a strange gunship blasting Geth off of the platform.

"Impressive. Pilot is certainly an expert. Guns seem extremely powerful. Don't recognize the make or model of gunship. Hmm. Perhaps- no. Unlikely. Wait! Engines not normal pulse inducers. Must consider." said Jondum Bau, with glee.

Meanwhile, the gunship swooped low, almost scraping the platform, as it rammed two colossi and an armature off the edge of the communications tower into thin air.

Jondum's head perked up. Surprised, he stated, "Pilot more than expert. Also suicidal." He peeked out of his cover to fire a few shots, no longer pinned down by Geth. Most of the heavier units were attempting to blast the gunship from existence with coordinated gunfire, but through either the pilot's skill or sheer dumb luck, they hit nothing but empty air. Finally, after a few maneuvers, missiles, and liberal use of some sort of minigun, all of the Geth on the comms tower platform were reduced to scrap.

Finally, the gunship landed, and a ramp lowered. Harry poked his head out of the surprisingly spacious cargo bay, and loudly yelled, "Get in! We have incoming!"

Ashley looked at Harry. Then at the salarians nearby. "Get in the gunship! Now! Harry, what _exactly_ do we have incoming?" She yelled, running to the gunship. Harry looked at her, incredulous.

"We have a fucking Reaper inbound! Get in, all of you! We're nuking this place and getting the hell out!" He shouted.

The salarians rushed to the gunship, and boarded quickly. Ashley yelled to the cockpit, "Everyone's on board!" before Harry punched the throttle. A screen in the gunship's cargo bay flickered to life as multiple Gs of acceleration pinned everyone to the backs of their seats. Saren's face stared out of the screen.

"Jane Shepard." Saren hissed. "The first human spectre. I don't know how you followed me here, but soon you'll be nothing more than radioactive dust, along with your ship and crew. The Reapers will come, Shepard, and we cannot hope to stop them." The broadcast flickered and stopped.

Harry calmly turned on the intercom, and announced to his passengers, "Saren has no idea what he's doing. Jane isn't even in this vehicle. Also, the Reaper is heading towards the cloning facility, not the Normandy." Pushing a few buttons, Harry spoke again, this time into the ship-to-ship communications unit.

"Come in Normandy? This is Harry's gunship. We'll rendezvous in orbit. Bug out."

"This is the Normandy. We read you." was Joker's reply.

The two ships blasted out of the atmosphere, as the nuclear warhead detonated. A vast mushroom cloud rose into the sky. Visible from space, the nuke provided a very pretty light show.

Once in orbit, Harry radioed to Joker,

"Open the cargo bay, please? I have you on visuals." Joker complied, and soon Harry was landing his gunship next to the Mako. He then ushered everyone out of his gunship and into the elevator. He was about to leave, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Harry felt as if something or someone was watching him.

The wizard's gaze slowly swept across the cargo bay, lingering on every little piece of tech. After a few minutes of observation, Harry heard a very high-pitched whine coming from his gunship's cargo bay. He stepped over to a chair in which one of the salarians had been seated, and looked closer. After a few seconds of examination, Harry's fingers closed around a miniature camera. His face contorted into a scowl. Holding the camera in a closed fist, Harry pushed energy into his fingers. The air around his hand vibrated and whispered. A few seconds later, the spy-camera's lens cracked, releasing a whiff of acrid smoke. Something inside the camera sparked, as it short-circuited. However, Harry still heard the same high-pitched whine.

Gathering his magic, he let out his aura. All around the cargo bay, loose tools and crates shivered and shook. A few smaller objects lifted into the air, drifting freely. A few seconds later, Harry heard a hissing noise, and saw a few puffs of smoke from his gunship's cargo bay. The feeling of being watched, and the high-pitched whine disappeared as the assortment of listening and video devices stuttered and fried.

Harry thought briefly. He would have to be more careful. Listening devices were everywhere, and he couldn't afford to slip up and accidentally reveal magic to the salarians on board. After shrinking down his gunship, Harry removed his armor, and went to his bunk. He needed a good night's sleep.

Slowly, he lay down on the bed, and closed his eyes. He could hear the gentle hum that was always present aboard the ship, and the slight hisses of vectoring thrusters keeping the craft on course. Footsteps tap-tap-tapped past him, belonging to a crewman just coming on duty. The lift buzzed, signaling that a passenger had just directed it upwards, to another level. Distant clanking heralded the sound of repairs to the shuttle, and a voice raised in happy laughter announced the results of a poker game elsewhere on the crew deck, but it was all background noise, and Harry did not particularly mind it. Then he was flying. Puffy white clouds stood tall in the distance, pouring rain from their feet. Harry caressed the shaft of his old Firebolt. Soft hands pulled him into an embrace. A cauldron bubbled, and Harry watched the liquid inside dance excitedly. A muffled voice softly asked,"But what about the third law? It won't transfigure itself," and birds screeched and twittered as Harry seated himself atop a tree overlooking a rainforest. The rainforest grew smaller, and became a vast field of grass. A glass of water clinked on a marble countertop, and hardwood floors creaked under heavy boots. With a detached sense of annoyance, Harry watched clods of dirt stick to the floor, as he stepped out of the rain. A distant rumble of soft thunder intermingled with the pitter-patter of raindrops. Harry found himself in the Normandy's observation room, staring into the infinite blackness of space. Stars shifted, twinkling madly. Far off in the distance, something blinked.

Harry woke, leisurely surfacing from his dreams as though from the depths of an ocean. He sat up, and turned off his alarm. He rubbed his eyes, and started to put on a clean uniform. Task complete, he checked his omni-tool. He found two new messages- one was a crew status alert, keeping the crew up to date with the ship's current mission. The other was a message from Jane.

 _Harry,_

 _I enjoyed our talk about your magic. I've been thinking about what you said, and I thought of a few more questions that I'd like to ask. I was hoping you could answer them after your current shift? Just come up to the captain's cabin when you're ready._

 _See you soon!_

 _-Jane_

The Normandy's crew rotation worked the same way as most other ships in the Alliance. Each crew member had a schedule that alternated four hours on duty, then four hours off for sixteen hours of the ship's standard cycle, then eight hours off for sleeping.

All the Normandy crew had tasks they needed to perform whenever the ship was in motion, even the newcomers, like Liara, Harry,Wrex, Tali, and Garrus. Tali worked in engineering, Liara served as Dr. Chakwas' assistant, Wrex kept the armory in tip-top shape, Garrus calibrated the Normandy's meager weapons systems, and Harry basically took over the Mess Sergeant's duty in the mess hall. After the first few days of MREs and frozen food, Harry had enough. As soon as the Normandy had reached the next port, Harry had purchased a large crate full of food and cooking supplies. Ever since, he had been cooking restaurant-quality meals for the crew. One night, on a dare from the former 'chef,' he had even laid out some doilies and brought out caviar and filet mignon.

...

As soon as Harry finished his shift, he took the lift all the way up to the highest level on the ship. He stepped into the hallway adjoining the Captain's cabin, and placed his omni-tool against a sensor in the center of the door. After checking his identity via omni-tool code and security footage, the door let out a beep, signalling that he was cleared to enter just as soon as the room's occupant decided to open the door.

With a _hiss,_ the door slid open, revealing a spartan bedroom, sparsely decorated with medals and awards- signs of a successful military career. Jane stepped into view, dressed in standard Alliance casual uniform.

"Hey, Harry. Ready for another barrage of questions?" She asked.

"Fire away," Harry offered.

"Alright." Jane began. "My question isn't really about your magic, this time." Harry raised his eyebrows. "I wanted to know about you. Do you have family? Where do you live? What have you been doing for the past five years?" Harry sighed.

"Well, I don't have family." he started. "My parents were killed a year after I was born." Jane's jaw dropped. Harry continued, heedless of her dismay. "I have a house on almost every major population center in the galaxy, and I have my ships. Ever since I retired from the Alliance, I've been traveling and working almost nonstop."

"Working? What do you do?" Jane asked.

"I'm a part-time stockbroker, part-time information broker, part-time paid vigilante. I do anything and everything, really." Harry explained.

"What do you mean?" Jane queried, confused.

"Here's an example. I told you that I was a part of the revolution on Anhur - You might remember it. There was a huge rebellion against the Na'hesit faction - wealthy batarian slave-owners who were in charge of the government. I served as a leader for the anti-slavery faction, and got paid handsomely for it. I was also responsible for the massive data upload that showed the galaxy what was really happening on the surface of Anhur. Afterwards, I was able to use the situation to make billions of credits by purchasing a few consumer-goods factories. They went into overdrive as soon as the rebellion won, and made a mint by selling the basics. Pots, pans, beds, prefabricated shelters, food, and water were all in high demand. So, my companies sold for cheap, so that everyone could afford to buy. Almost two billion souls lived on Anhur. More than three quarters of them all spent at least twenty credits at one of my companies. That basically covers my 'work'. Stockbroker, Information broker, and vigilante."

"You also gave a galactically-televised speech about the rebellion, right? I watched your interview." Jane interrupted.

"Yeah, that was me. How could you tell?"Harry asked, curious.

"I recognized your saying about slavery. I think you used it a few times during ICT training- I seem to recall you joining the soldiers in the barracks during down-time? I remember a lot of conversations across that crowded mess hall about the rest of the Council races. Well, and the Batarians. Their government leaving the Citadel Coalition was much fresher news back then."

"Yeah. That was fun. I really enjoyed teaching for the ICT program." Harry mused. "It was always amusing to think that all my students were all more experienced than me, yet I was the one at the front of the classroom."

"How was N-school for you? When you went through the ICT program?" Jane questioned.

"I didn't know the instructors very well, but I certainly snuck into the officer's lounge a few times for their tea. That was the only place outside of Britain where I could ever get a good cup without making it myself."

"How were you not caught?" Jane's asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Magic, how else?" Harry said. "The security cameras may have caught a cup of tea making itself midair a couple times, but the base commander gave up on trying to unravel the mystery after a few months."

"Why can't you make tea with magic?" Jane questioned.

"Food's one of the five exceptions to Gamp's law of elemental transfiguration. There are five exceptions- First is you can't make food- you can copy it, though. Think Jesus feeding the multitudes, from the Christian Bible. If I have even a few crumbs, I can make more of those crumbs. Then I can transfigure them into something more appealing. The second exception to Gamp's law is supposed to be money, but that's incorrect. I can't create _wizarding_ money. I can create paper money, but that stuff isn't in circulation anymore. The third exception is curse damage. If I cut off somebody's ear with a dark curse, I can't put it back. That actually happened to a friend of mine. And the fourth exception is fairly self-explanatory. You can't bring people back from the dead- wait, that's not true, now that I think about it."

"You can bring people back from the dead?" Jane asked incredulously.

"Well, not quite." Harry backtracked. "Dead people can come back to life, under the right circumstances. I've done it a few times, and I once had to kill a guy who did it. But you can't just going about bringing everyone and their pet goldfish back from the dead- hmm. Well- ah, forget about it." Jane stared at Harry, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"You mentioned Jesus used magic. Was he a wizard?" Jane asked, after a few seconds of silence.

"Jesus is actually a bit of a sore topic among wizards. Some people think he was just a wizard running around and fooling all the muggles, but I don't think so. If you go to the magical parts of Israel and look closely enough, it's pretty obvious. We know that Jesus spoke with a lot of angels, but we don't know why, or what he said. I personally think that it's more likely than not that he was divine in some form or fashion."  
"What do you mean, spoke with angels?" Jane spoke slowly, eyes wide. "Do you mean that literally?"

"Yeah, I do." Harry confirmed. "Angels are real, and so are demons and devils. However, very few people know how to summon them, and those who do generally understand how much of a bad idea it is. If you summon an angel, and you've done a few too many bad things in your life, you get vaporized just the same as if you plowed into the sun. If you summon a devil you get offered a deal, usually one that you can't or won't refuse. If you summon a demon? You're just asking to be brutally eviscerated."

"Well." Jane uttered. She sat heavily in a chair."That's certainly food for thought."

"It hit me pretty hard too." Harry sympathized. "I spent a week in the magical section of Egypt going through an existential crisis after I found one of his old summoning circles."

"What do you mean?" Jane asked again.

"I found one of his summoning circles. Damn thing tried to judge my soul." Harry reminisced.

"Alright, you lost me somewhere. What the _fuck_ is a summoning circle, and what the _hell_ did it do to your soul?" Jane asked vehemently.

"A summoning circle is the primary part of any ritual that summons extradimensional entities." Harry said, voice taking on a more professorial tone. "The particular one I stumbled upon was used so often, and for so long, that the magic had seeped into the ground. That resulted in a phenomenon known as Genius Loci. Roman wizards thought it was a protective spirit that was attached to one specific place, but they were wrong. A Genius Loci is a spirit, yes, but it takes on the aspects of the events that happen to form it. Lots of old places have them. Luckily for us wizards, most places old enough to have them are far out of the way. I already told you about Tenochtitlan, and how the thing they worshipped used them for power via human sacrifice. However, I didn't tell you about the result of all that killing. Wizards don't go to South America. Well, they do now, but for the last few hundred years, nobody with any sense went there. All that murder created an immensely powerful spirit that was eternally hungry, or supernaturally homicidal. Reports tend to differ on that topic. Wizards who got within a few hundred miles of the ruined city started getting terrifying dreams, and any who got within sight of the ruins were enthralled. Until the Armageddon scare, the entire country was basically locked down. The ICW, basically the wizarding United Nations, put up massive wards around the borders, keeping anything magical in. Now that the entity is gone, all that stopped. That was around one hundred seventy years ago."

"You said something about transfiguring food. What does that mean? To transfigure something?" Jane questioned. With a wave of his wand, Harry conjured a chair.

"That's conjuration, a subset of transfiguration." With another wave of his wand, he changed the chair into a dog. The creature walked around, and briefly sniffed at Harry's feet before he banished it.

"That's transfiguration. Turning one thing into another. I should add that transfigured items have a muddled sense of persistence. For example, if I conjured sandpaper, and scraped the edges off your table, the changes would remain. Similarly, if I conjure eezo, the ship can use it normally, and lower the ship's mass just like normal eezo." Harry explained. Jane's eyes widened.

"That's incredible!" She took a few moments, then shook her head. "Why don't you give me some time to process that fact. It's not every day your entire worldview is turned upside-down." Jane joked, voice wry. Harry got up, and headed to the door.

"I aim to please!" He laughed, before leaving the room. Jane heard him chuckling all the way to the lift.

….

When the Normandy arrived at the Mu Relay, Jane Shepard's voice was projected through the intercom.

" _This is Commander Shepard speaking. We have our orders: find Saren before he finds the Conduit. I won't lie to you crew. This mission isn't going to be easy. For too long, our species have stood apart from one another. Now it's time to step up, and do our part for the rest of the galaxy. Time to show them what humans are made of! Our enemy knows we're coming. When we go into the Traverse, Saren's followers will be waiting for us. But we'll be ready for them, too. Humanity needs to do this. Not just for our own sake, but for every other species in Citadel Space. Saren has to be stopped. And I promise you all: We WILL stop him. Ground team! Pack your bags, armor up, and get to the situation room. I'll be briefing you all there."_

Harry hopped out of his bunk, and rushed to don his armor. After linking it up to his omni-tool, he tested the HUD, finding it satisfactory. He went through a quick weapons check, making sure he had everything in the right place. With a hiss, Harry put on his helmet, and sealed his suit, making it airtight, apart from a few rebreathers in his chestplate.

Harry walked to the lift, and pressed the button corresponding to the CIC. A few minutes later, Harry found himself in the briefing room. Jane stood in the center of a circle of chairs, absently waiting for the rest of the ground team. He sat in silence, and watched the rest of the crew file in. A few minutes later, Jane began the briefing.

"Alright. You all know what we're fighting for by now. In order to retain galactic peace, it is necessary that we capture or kill Saren Arterius. We know he'll be heading here," Jane brought up a hologram of the planet Illos. "This is all intel we picked up with our long range scanners. As of twenty minutes ago, we passed through the Mu Relay. Strangely, Sovereign is nowhere in this system, but a large geth dropship appears to have landed recently at this facility. We'll need to approach fast. Joker, where can you drop us?"

"The shuttle can bring you down anywhere, really. It's up to you." Joker stated.

"Alright. We'll be landing here," Jane pointed out a location on the hologram, "Kaiden, you're in charge of the shuttle. You'll be our pilot."

"Ma'am, I don't think-" Kaiden complained.

"What don't you think? Your scores in shuttle handling from Basic Training are the best of any member on the ground team. I need the best, and we may need a fast pickup. So you're the pilot, Lieutenant." Jane interrupted, voice filled with authority.

Kaiden nodded in acceptance, but didn't look very happy to be relegated to 'backup'. Jane quickly spoke up again, offering an out for anyone getting cold feet.

"I would now like to warn you, that this is probably going to be one of the most difficult missions of your military careers. I will understand if any of you want to stay out of this. Otherwise, wear your best armor, bring your biggest guns, and grab your war paint. Now unless anyone has any objections, let's head to the shuttle."

None of the ground crew decided to stay on the Normandy, although Jane's warning had spurred some deep thoughts. The lift down to the shuttlebay was spent in somber silence.

The anxious feeling continued as the shuttle took off, heading for the surface. Harry broke the silence, after pulling out a small pistol, which he presented to Jane.

"I want you to have this, just as a backup. It only has six shots total, but it kicks like a mule, and can kill just about anything." Harry said. "It's already magnetized; you won't have to worry about replacing your current pistol. This one attaches to your wrist." Jane thanked him sincerely, after he helped affix the weapon to her gauntlet. Harry couldn't be too careful. He had first met Jane during a batarian slave raid on Mindoir; they hadn't met again until Harry was sent to be a biotic trainer for the Interplanetary Combatives Training program, also known as N-school, or the N-program. Jane had been placed under his tutelage, as she was in Adept-training for extraordinarily powerful biotics, and the two had become friends.

After Jane graduated from the ICT program, they had been separated again, until the pair met during shore leave on Elysium almost immediately before the Blitz, a Batarian attack that was supposed to eradicate the human colony on Elysium. After repelling the batarian assault, they had been separated yet again, until an email from Jane heralded Harry's arrival on Noveria. Even though he was generally closed off, Harry counted Jane Shepard as a good friend, one he certainly didn't want to lose. That was why he had given her an extra backup weapon. The small pistol would only fire up to six shots before breaking, but each one was probably strong enough to seriously dent and damage even the Mako's armor.

As the shuttle approached, Kaiden spotted something on scans, and cried out,

"That's Saren! He's just entered the facility. I'm taking us in fast, hold on." The ride became much more uncomfortable very quickly. Turbulence rocked the shuttle from side to side.

Seconds later, the shuttle stopped, hovering a few feet off the ground. Jane slid the door open, and jumped out. Running quickly, she accessed the elevator Saren had taken, and called the lift back. A few seconds later, it arrived with a screech.

"Get in, get in! He's not very far ahead. We've almost got him!" Jane called, as the ground crew piled into the elevator. The doors closed with a screech, and the elevator lurched downwards.

Suddenly, Harry's omni-tool pinged, and a projector in the wall lit up. The team raised their weapons, ready to fire on the anomaly. A scrambled orange hologram materialized, stating in an even tone,

" _You are not Prothean. But you are not Machine, either. This eventuality was one of many that was anticipated. This is why we sent our warning through the beacons."_

"Looks like some kind of VI program." Tali commented. Pretty badly damaged."

" _I do not sense the taint of indoctrination upon any of you. Unlike the one that passed recently. Perhaps there is still hope."_

"This is incredible!"Liara gushed. "An actual Prothean VI, and it still works!" The VI quickly continued, after her outburst.

 _I have been monitoring your communications since you arrived at this facility. I have translated my output into a format you will comprehend. My name is Vigil. You are safe here, for the moment. But that is likely to change. Soon, nowhere will be safe."_

"Why did you appear to us?" Jane questioned.

" _You must break a cycle that has continued for millions of years. But to stop it, you must understand, or you will make the same mistakes we did. The Citadel is the heart of your civilization, and the seat of government. As it was with us, and as it has been with every civilization before us. But the Citadel is a trap. The station is actually an enormous mass relay. One that links to dark space, the empty void beyond the galaxy's horizon. When the Citadel relay is activated, the reapers will pour through. And all you know will be destroyed."_ Vigil stated.

"We were already aware of that." Jane uttered. "I have the Prothean Cipher. We already learned that the signal sent by Sovereign was ignored. However, we need a way to control the Citadel, and we suspect you may have it."

" _Truly?"_ Vigil sounded almost wistful. " _Then you must know that I am no VI. I am a true artificial intelligence._ " Tali gasped in shock at this new revelation. " _I am the full imprint of Ksad Ishan, a Prothean scientist and shipbuilder. If at all possible, I would request that you retrieve my 'Blue Box' and bring me with you when you leave. If you can upload me into the Citadel from a specific terminal, I can take control of the Citadel Relay. Now, you must follow Saren through the conduit. He will lead you to your destination. When you reach the Citadel's master control terminal, upload me, and I will be able to give you temporary control of the Citadel. Now you must go. Follow the one you call Saren. He has not reached the Conduit. Not yet. There is still hope, if you hurry."_

Almost instantly, Harry used his familiar bond to mobilize his fleets. They turned on, warming up heatsinks, starting engines, and spinning drive cores. A few seconds later, the nearest quarter of Harry's military ships was en route to the Citadel. They would arrive in less than half an hour. Harry was still worried. He wasn't sure that his ships would arrive in time.

The elevator's doors screeched open, and Harry ran towards the AI's 'Blue Box.' An unremarkable pedestal glowed green. Quickly, he hooked up the Prothean AI's brain to his omni-tool, attached it to his belt, and spelled it to be unbreakable.

The AI's hologram flickered out, and it's Blue Box glowed slightly on Harry's belt. Then a much smaller version of the hologram projected from the Blue Box. In tinny, quiet tones, the AI restated it's last sentence.

" _Hurry, or Saren will reach the Conduit."_

"Joker! Take the normandy to the Citadel, now!" Jane yelled, when the group found themselves in an open-air plaza. She then yelled expletives through the radio channel until Kaiden arrived to pick them up. After everyone loaded themselves aboard the shuttle, she directed Kaiden to head towards the Conduit at top speed.

As they approached, Saren's blurry form, along with a large number of krogan, vorcha, and geth, were visible traveling through the Conduit. The shuttle reached the miniature relay with time to spare, and a few extra dents in the bottom of the vehicle. Traveling through the conduit was violent. However, it couldn't compare in the slightest to a trip through the Veil.

Miraculously, Kaiden managed to keep the shuttle intact, due to some fancy flying. Unfortunately, he was still going to have to scrape viscera off of the bottom. He had skidded across the ground by the Citadel end of the Conduit, while it had been occupied by a large portion of the hostile militia.

Saren's forces had already begun terrorizing the Citadel, and his ragtag force of decommissioned ships from an assortment of species was taking a pounding against the Citadel Defense Fleet. Sovereign, the Reaper, was not. It simply rammed through any ship foolish enough to get in it's way.

A minute later, Sovereign was perched atop the Presidium. Harry became much more worried, as the Reaper closed the Citadel's arms. They needed to use Vigil to reopen the Citadel, in order to stop Saren's plan.

Kaiden hit the accelerator, and gravity pushed everyone back against their seats. They had to get to the Council Chambers! As they flew parallel to the presidium tower, the ground team examined the Reaper. Truly, it was the largest spacecraft any of them (bar Harry) had ever seen in person. All of them had seen video footage of the spectacular finale of the human First Contact War, but never had they personally seen any of the ships involved. Somehow, two kilometers seemed a lot longer in real life.

Quietly, Kaiden set the shuttle down near an airlock close to the Council Chambers. Everyone piled out, traveling to the airlock at a quick jog. It fell open with a _hiss_ to Jane's Spectre authorization codes, and the team found themselves not twenty feet from an elevator to the Council Chambers. Quickly sneaking aboard, the elevator made its agonizingly slow journey.

" _Now arriving at the Council Chambers."_ the voice of Avina, the Citadel's AI, announced. The door opened, sliding upwards. The crew raised their weapons, and stepped out of the elevator. Immediately, combat began, as a patrol of krogan and vorcha opened fire.

Their greeting was returned in full; bullets were exchanged for more bullets. The sheer firepower carried around by a team handpicked by a spectre was rather mind-boggling. Combined fire from Kaiden (no longer piloting the shuttle) Ashley, Garrus, Wrex, Tali, Liara, Jane, and Harry violently dispatched the patrol quickly.

Unfortunately, the gunfire alerted other groups of hostiles, so the short journey up to the council seats became an arduous slog, as numerous patrols converged on their location. Hordes of Krogan, taken from the cloning facility, swarmed the team. It was rough going, especially whenever one of the shotgun-wielding hostiles got into close quarters. However, the krogan were slowly dealt with, and the group progressed.

A few enemies along the way to the Council Seats put up a token resistance, before being taken out. Jane and the rest of the ground crew rushed up the last set of stairs. There, at the far end of the room, stood Saren. Further behind him lay a thick window that looked out into the void.

In between the rogue spectre and the first human spectre lay the limited expanse of the Council room. It was an exquisitely decorated area, with a few gardens planted nearby. Cherry trees sprouted around defunct Prothean artifacts, producing a very pretty effect. Unfortunately, the room's beauty was overshadowed by the fact that fire licked at the walls, and that the ceiling was veiled by a thin haze of smoke.

Saren stood at the center of the room, on the Speaker's walkway, from which dignitaries and officials addressed the Council. A thin glass floor lay between the Speaker's podium and the Council seats, below which lay a small garden with ornamental prothean artifacts.

As the group approached Saren, Harry quickly donned his cloak, and cast a notice-me-not charm upon himself. He whispered to Jane,

"I'm going to try and go around him and plug in Vigil. Distract him, keep him talking if you can." He then flew up, still invisible, and landed behind Saren, by the Citadel Main Control terminal. Carefully, quietly, Harry began the process of taking control of the station.

…...

Saren ran to his hover-platform, and activated it.

He glanced back towards the entryway, and threw a grenade, forcing Shepard's team into cover. He pulled out a pistol, and aimed it in her direction.

Laughing, Saren exclaimed, "Shepard. You've run out of time."

"Run out of time for what?" Jane asked, angrily.

"The final confrontation. I think we both expected it would end like this. You've lost, you know that, don't you? Sovereign has just opened the Citadel Relay. The Reapers will return." Saren stated, completely confident. As he spoke, a shudder ran through the Citadel. Through a large window behind the Council Seats, Harry caught a glimpse of blue energy.

The Relay was open.

"We've still got a few tricks up our sleeves, Saren!" Jane yelled.

"You survived all your encounters with myself, and my forces. But we've changed, since then. Improved. Sovereign has upgraded us. Upgraded me." Saren whispered, voice still carrying clearly across the room.

"You let Sovereign implant you? Are you insane?" Jane called back to him.

"You don't understand, Shepard. There _is_ a place for organics in our new order. The reapers need men and women of action. People like us. Sovereign recognizes your value. Potter as well. You've impressed it. Surrender to the Reapers and you will be spared. Join us, and we can find a place for you." Saren spoke, voice harsh.

"Sovereign's controlling you through your implants, don't you see that?" Jane called.

"The relationship is symbiotic," Saren explained. "Organic and machine intertwined, a union of flesh and steel. The strengths of both, the weaknesses of neither. I am a vision of the future, Shepard," he continued, "The evolution of all organic life! This is our destiny. Join Sovereign, and experience a true rebirth!"

"Sovereign hasn't won yet!" Jane cried. "I can take back control of the station! Step aside, and this invasion can be stopped!"

"We can't stop it! Not forever. You saw the visions. You saw what happened to the Protheans. The Reapers are too powerful." Saren said, bitterness exuding from his words.

"Some part of you must realize that this is wrong!" Jane yelled. "You can fight this!"

"Maybe you're right…" Saren considered. "Maybe there is still a chance for… Unh!" The Turian writhed in pain. "The implants…" Saren rasped. "Sovereign is too strong. I'm sorry. It's too late for me."

"It's not over yet!" Shepard cried, stepping out from her cover. "You can still redeem yourself!"

"Goodbye, Shepard. Thank you." Saren said, before he placed his pistol to the side of his head, and pulled the trigger. His body swayed, for a few hour-long seconds, before falling off the side of his hover-platform, and through the glass floor between the Council seats and the speaker's platform. His fall was broken by stone, and he did not get up. His corpse simply lay immobile, insensate, in a small grassy garden decorated with prothean relics. It would almost have been a peaceful scene, if not for the strange red glow that began to emanate from Saren's prosthetic arm.

….

A shudder, much more violent this time, ran through the Citadel. Harry removed his cloak and his notice-me-not charm, announcing,

"Vigil's in the computer. I've got full control of all systems. I just shut down the Citadel Relay. Unfortunately, three Reapers got through. Two were capital-class, and the other was a two-hundred meter destroyer. I've also begun opening the station's arms. My fleet will be arriving in a minute or less."

"Alright. I'm opening a communications channel." Jane announced. "Let's connect with the C-Sec tactical map. Hopefully they'll have some idea of where the remaining hostiles are-"

….

"-...The Destiny Ascension. Main drives are offline, Kinetic barriers are down sixty percent. The Council is on board. I repeat, the Council is on board. We have two Dreadnaughts focusing on us. Mayday, Mayday!" Interrupted Jane's sentence. The Destiny Ascension was under attack from two of the three Reaper dreadnoughts; Only through careful positioning and extreme luck could they last another few minutes. The Ascension was trying to keep the Citadel between its two attackers, with limited success.

"Normandy to the Citadel. Normandy to the Citadel. Please tell me that's you, Commander." Joker's voice broadcast over the channel.

"I'm here, Joker." Jane replied.

"We caught that distress call, Commander. I'm sitting here in the Andura Sector with the entire Arcturus Fleet. We can save the Ascension! Just unlock the Relays around the Citadel, and we'll send the cavalry in! What's the order, Commander? Save the Ascension, or hold back?"

Joker presented a conundrum. On one hand, the Council was almost entirely useless during the course of the hunt for Saren. On the other, they wouldn't just be saving the Council. They would also be saving almost twelve thousand Asari living and working aboard the ship. Shepard knew what she wanted done.

"Open the Relays now, Joker." Jane informed her pilot. " We need to save the Ascension!"

…..

"Alliance ships, move in! Save the Destiny Ascension!" Admiral Hackett's gruff voice ordered. The entire Arcturus defense fleet passed through the relay in perfect formation. As soon as they resumed regular light-speed travel, they began accelerating towards the damaged Asari dreadnought.

However, the two black dreadnought-class starships following the Ascension worried many pilots. Those two ships were massive! Not quite the size of the smaller ships that ended the First Contact War, but still larger than could be feasibly built by present standards.

"Captain! We're picking up reinforcements! It's the Alliance. Thank the Goddess!" Cried the navigator of the Destiny Ascension.

"Check out those numbers. Something's wrong." An analyst called out. "The numbers on those reinforcements are impossible. Nobody can field that many ships."

The captain of the Ascension looked at a holographic screen, which displayed a changing number of ships on the field of battle. Somehow, the 'Allied' ships now vastly outnumbered the hostiles, by a much more significant margin than normal, even including the Arcturus fleet.

The Alliance fleet moved to assist the Destiny Ascension, preparing firing solutions.

…..

Admiral Steven Hackett was worried. Something strange was happening. His analysts were buzzing, as the number representing friendly ships kept rising. Currently, the number was around ten times what he had expected, and still rising - fast. Now was _not_ a good time for an equipment malfunction. One of the technicians fussing over the VI stood, and quickly announced,

"A channel just opened up. Voice only. It's marked at the highest priority a civilian ship can send. Should we respond?" Hackett nodded at the man. " Putting it on speakers now."

"Hello!" An accented voice remarked. "Please do me a favor and keep your firing solutions on those Reaper ships, please. I'd hate to have any issues with friendly fire." Hackett stared at the nearest speaker. What sort of idiot would interrupt alliance military operations for something that inane?

"Uncloak and fire all guns on my mark." the accented voice cut him off. Hackett's eyes opened wide. The channel closed.

"Get me scans, _now._ This event is now classified under the Systems Alliance Official Secrets Act! And keep all guns pointed towards those Reapers!" Hackett ordered, voice stern. "If my hunch is correct, we may have just won this battle." There was a brief silence, as the bridge crew watched both Hackett, and the holographic rendering of the scan's results. Strangely, there was much more static than usual on the scan. Hackett watched the hologram closely.

Then the static resolved itself into shapes; strangely familiar graceful, sweeping designs. Hackett chuckled, then laughed. Slowly, the shapes became more detailed, and what Hackett had recognized became visible to the entire command crew. Before their astonished gaze sat holographic representations of two hundred and fifty frigates, seventy-five cruisers, twenty dreadnaughts, two super-dreadnaughts, and a massive thirty-kilometer monstrosity that was busy spewing thousands of fighters. Quietly, one of the combat analysts stuttered,

"Those ships match designs of the fleet that ended the first contact war."

…..

" _Uncloak, and fire all guns on my mark."_

 _.._

 _..._

" _Mark."_

…


	8. The Last Voyage of the SR1 Normandy

**Hello! I'd like to inform everybody that I added a brief two-page flashback about Cerberus in Chapter 5, 'Fun on Feros'. Also, I'd like to say that this chapter contains a lot more action than the previous one.  
Have fun reading, and I hope you enjoy!**

…

Hundreds of ships appeared where seconds ago only the vast pink dust cloud of the Widow Nebula had been visible. Pink particles sloughed off of ships, creating a rather pleasant aesthetic. Then, all at once, every ship fired. What appeared to be a wall of blue energy resolved itself into individual shots, if one looked close enough. Hundreds, even thousands, of fighters soared through the nebula towards the Citadel.

Blasts of blue force lanced through the vacuum, so bright that they hurt to look at. Immediately, the three capitol-class Reapers turned towards this new threat, and opened fire. Blasts of molten material traced long lines through the pink nebula that surrounded the Citadel, creating a light show that would be filmed by every being with a free hand and an omni-tool.

Though the red blasts were incredibly dangerous, and fueled by malice and evil, shots composed of blue energy greatly outnumbered and overpowered those from the Reaper ships.

Tides of energy broke against the kinetic barriers of the three largest Reapers, enveloping them in painfully bright light. Seconds later, the shining barriers began falling under the sheer force of the energy unleashed.

Vast bursts of power launched from the dreadnaughts, and super-dreadnaughts. Thousands of fighters engaged the Reaper destroyer, still perched on the presidium.

Then the thirty-kilometer-long warship fired. A bright blue streak powered towards the nearest Reaper, and shattered its shields. Implacably, the blast carried on through the ship, emerging from the other side and traveling off into the void. Then the immense warship fired again, and again, and again. The endless fighter wings turned, and engaged the rest of the hostile force. Soon, the hostile dropships and fighters were being torn from the sky in droves.

…..

"Matriarch Lidanya!" Tevos, the Asari councilor, yelled. "Matriarch! What's going on?"

"Councilor, I'm just as confused as you." Lidanya snapped. "Are you seeing the combat readings?"

"Yes, of course! Are we under some sort of cyberattack?" Tevos queried. "There's some sort of error with the fleet and ship size readings, and we're not receiving friend/foe tags from the newest fleet."

"No, There's no error." Came the reply.

"That's impossible. By the goddess, the VI is saying one of those ships is more than thirty kilometers long. And- The Alliance is a signatory of the Treaty of Farixen." Tevos said, grasping at straws. "They're not allowed to have more than one dreadnaught per five in the turian navy! This reading says there are twenty dreadnought-class ships in the new fleet! Matriarch, that's more than half the size of the entire turian armada."

"Councilor, those aren't human ships." Lidanya announced. "Look at the designs. The Human fleet is much smaller. The new fleet doesn't belong to the Alliance. By the goddess- What species could possibly field a fleet like that?"

"Damn!" Tevos cursed. "I know what those ships are!"

"What?" Lidanya questioned, voice harsh.

"I just remembered a dossier on the Relay 314 Incident." Tevos backtracked. "We thought it was fiction, actually. Apparently, five dreadnaughts and a ten kilometer monstrosity of a ship annihilated the entire turian seventh patrol fleet."

"Well it obviously isn't fiction. What the hell do you want me to do about this?" Lidanya questioned. Councilor Tevos thought for a moment, before replying.

"The only thing we can."

"And what councilor, is that?"

"Pray."

….

On the Presidium, chaos unseen for centuries ran rampant. Gunfire shattered the ordinary peaceful lull, and Avina, the Citadel VI, skipped like a broken record, completely inoperable. Lights sparked, and speakers that normally played calm music now sputtered, emitting static.

In the Council chambers, Saren's corpse _glowed._ Red energy hissed and crackled, and what had been flesh melted away, dripping onto the floor. A framework of implants and machines were revealed, functioning just below the surface of Saren's skin. Now, exposed, they glowed with harsh red light. What had been Saren's arm writhed, and launched a staccato blast of red spheres of explosive energy. The Speaker's walkway shuddered, as a support structure was demolished. It trembled and shook, until another blast removed the remaining support beam. With a screech, the far end of the platform dipped down, and bent with a screech.

Jane tumbled down the falling walkway, until she hit the ground. Her knees slammed painfully into the dirt, as she tried to execute a combat roll to bleed off some of her downwards momentum. She succeeded, partially. With a groan, she stood, and pulled out her assault rifle. Quickly, she ducked behind a hunk of crumbling decorative Prothean statuary as Saren's remains targeted her.

Harry slid down the Speaker's walkway, and cast a shield on himself. He followed that with a shield for Jane, and a " _Wingardium Leviosa!_ " to lift Saren's animated remains into the air. Quickly, the rest of the ground crew, still up above, poured gunfire over the hissing mech. Biotic blasts pounded it into the ground, and Harry's " _Reducto_ " spells hit true, blasting off chunks of black armor.

A few seconds later, a light on the automaton's chestpiece began to blink, slowly at first, and then growing more rapid. It was soon accompanied by a high-pitched beeping noise. A new hissing sound marked the activation of some sort of jetpack which the robotic figure used to charge haphazardly towards Harry and Jane, bypassing the levitation effect of Harry's hover charm.

A twisting sense of dread flickered into life in the depths of his chest. He had a sneaking suspicion- -and a diagnostic charm revealed that Harry's prediction was completely, terrifyingly accurate.

Saren's corpse contained a 'backpack nuke', a small nuclear warhead.

Harry stepped up his magical assault. The stakes had just increased. A banishing charm blasted the robot into the wall, and a permanent sticking charm held it there. However, Harry wasn't done yet. Quickly, he flew up to the Speaker's walkway, and summoned Jane to him. Then, after yelling for the ground crew to "Get back!" Harry focused his mind and his magic, and began laying a containment ward over the garden.

It shimmered into existence with a hum, and began to glow, now visible to all around as Harry poured power into it, giving the bubble a yellow sheen. Seconds later, the warhead went off, shaking the Council room, and likely the entire Presidium. However, Harry and the ground crew remained safe, while the explosive roared beneath his containment ward. Seconds passed, as brilliant light and massive power shook the floor. Then, after the light and flame dissipated, Harry stopped putting power into the ward, and let it sit, shimmering where light hit it.

He took deep breaths, his appearance gaunt. His face seemed whiter, his irises a lighter green, his hair darker. The lines of his face seemed longer, and something lurked behind his eyes. Harry fumbled at his belt for a vial of Pepper-Up potion. Shaking fingers popped the cap off of a strange bottle with a glowing red fluid inside.

"It's not over yet," He finally said, before adding, "But we've earned ourselves a brief reprieve." Outside the great window, ships from Harry's fleet were visible cleaning up the Reaper wreckage, and pulling drifting spars and sections of bulkhead away from the Citadel.

Slowly, the color returned to his face as the Pepper-Up potion did its job. With a wave of his hand, the containment ward disappeared, and Harry's armor peeled itself off of him. A large mattress appeared from thin air, and floated over to him. Stiffly, Harry lay down, and a few minutes later, the even rise and fall of his chest indicated that he had fallen asleep.

Jane found an intact chair, and sat down to write her report. The rest of the ground team, as well, slowly found seats and relaxed. Jane's Omni-tool played the latest news from the C-Sec alert channel, which was giving civilians an all-clear, and letting the general populace know that the worst danger had passed.

Soon, Captain Anderson, Jane's previous commanding officer, passed through the damaged elevator doors leading into the room. He walked slowly up the steps leading to the Council Seats, shocked by the damage. Jane stood and saluted when Anderson approached.

"At ease. You know that isn't necessary, Shepard. You've probably saved all of us, at least for now. I read the report you just made. That's one hell of a claim we'll be making. I hope the Alliance understands the seriousness of your warning. The Reapers aren't going to go away, and we need to build up our military. If only we could get some tech from the Discretionary Fleet." He mused.

"The Discretionary Fleet? Sir?" Jane asked, puzzled. Anderson replied,

"That's Alliance Intel's name for the fleet that ended the first contact war. Apparently some tech sergeant called it that, and the name stuck. Now the moniker has been expanded to cover the rest of those ships." Anderson explained.  
"I may know where to get a few samples of their tech. I'll have to talk to somebody." Jane uttered. Anderson stared, eyes suddenly sparking with interest.

"If you could get that sort of tech for the Alliance- well, we might not be able to win against _all_ the Council races at once, but it would be close." He smirked. "Well, that's if we could understand it in the first place. Something tells me that faster-than-light travel without Relays isn't exactly going to be straightforward."

Jane could only nod.

…..

( **A/N** Much of this next section is taken directly from the game)

"Ambassador. Captain. Commander Shepard." The asari councilor intoned, voice formal. "We have gathered here today to recognize the enormous contributions of human forces in the war against Saren and the Reapers." The Salarian councilor spoke up.

"Without the efforts of your fleets, many of the Citadel's citizens may have been killed. Even we, the Council, would have been counted among the dead, if the Destiny Ascension had fallen." The salarian stopped talking, and the Turian Councillor's voice rang out.

"For the Turian people, there is no greater honor than to defend those who cannot defend themselves. We pride ourselves on our courage, and strength of arm. Today, I, and my government, would like to recognize the strength and courage of the Systems Alliance."

"The council also owes you and your team a great personal debt, commander. One we can never repay. You have saved not just our lives, but the lives of millions aboard the Citadel." The asari councilor stated gratefully.

"Commander Shepard," The salarian councilor continued, "your heroic and selfless actions serve as a symbol of everything Humanity and the Alliance stands for."

"And though we cannot bring back those who gave their lives to save our own, we can honor their memories through our actions." The turian Councilor added.

"Humanity has shown," The asari said, "that it is ready to stand as a defender and protector of the galaxy. You, and your race as a whole, has proven that you are worthy to join our ranks, and stand beside us on the Citadel Council."

"On behalf of Humanity and the Alliance, we thank you for this prestigious honor, and humbly accept." stated Donnel Udina, the Alliance ambassador.

"We will need a list of potential candidates to fill Humanity's seat on the Council." The salarian, uttered, thinking of the future. "We plan to request such a list from Alliance headquarters, and have your new councilor here within the week."

"We must now turn to the most pressing issue we now face. The Reapers. We have no choice but to accept your evidence, and begin preparation for war. However, we still know very little about the Reaper forces. Factors such as fleet compositions, ship classes, numbers, weapon power, and kinetic shield strength are all unknown to us. If you come across any information regarding the Reaper threat, we would be grateful if you would pass it along."

"If I find any, I'll be sure to send it your way." Jane replied.

"In addition, we seem to have made a grave mistake in dismissing a report your government filed about the fleet that ended the first contact war." The salarian said, reluctant. "In future, we would be most grateful for additional information on that fleet, and other ships like it."

"We'll send whatever we have." replied Udina.

"Then I believe that is all, for now." said the Turian Councilor. "We must return to our administrative duties, and you must return to your ship. Your next task as a Council Spectre is to discover all you can about the Reapers."

"Understood."Jane stated. "I'll begin immediately."

"Be careful, Shepard!" The Asari Councilor interjected. "The galaxy is a dark place nowadays."

…..

"Bye, Wrex."

"You have fun gathering info, Shepard. I've got a few ideas for my people that I can only test in person. I hope to see you again soon, though. Not many humans fight like you." Wrex solemnly took Jane's hand in his own, and gave her a firm handshake.

"Thanks." Jane replied. "And good luck on Tuchanka."

"I might just need it!" The krogan rumbled, with a grin.

….

"Good luck on your pilgrimage, Tali. I'm sorry we couldn't help too much."

"Oh! Shepard! I guess I didn't tell you. Harry gave me a massive packet of data, as well as a video of him walking around on Rannoch. Did you know that the Geth actually offered us our homeworld back, and we still haven't accepted? It's absurd! And-"

"Careful, Tali. Tell the admiralty, not me." Jane laughed. "They'd be stupid to ignore you. You'll do wonderfully wherever you go."

"Thank you, Shepard. Visit sometime?"

"Of course!"

….

"Heading back to C-Sec, Garrus?" Jane asked.

"I guess so." the turian said absently. "I haven't really put much thought into it. After this, C-Sec's going to be incredibly boring. Nabbing red sand dealers and petty thieves will never compare to catching rogue spectres. I'm gonna start by visiting my dad, though. He's been asking for some stories. I plan to give him some."

"Make sure you tell him about the thresher maw on Edolus." Jane muttered.

"Don't delude yourself, Jane. It's not like anyone other than Harry did any damage to that thing. We just ran like hell, while the crew wizard yelled sectum-something-or-other and eviscerated it. That story is only valuable for bragging rights."

"So?" Jane laughed. "How envious will your dad be if you tell him you killed a thresher maw?"

"Good point. I can show him the pictures, too."

"Pictures?" Jane asked, curious. "What pictures?"

"Harry mounted the maw's head. Apparently it's a great conversation starter." Garrus pulled out his omni-tool and showed Jane an assortment of photographs.

"I'll send you the rest later." Garrus said. "Keep yourself safe, alright?"

"Will do, Vakarian."

…

"Heading out, Liara?" Jane questioned.

"Oh!" the asari startled. "I didn't see you there, Shepard. What can I do for you?"

"I saw you cleaning out your locker, and I was wondering where you were going." Jane stated.

"I was going to tell you soon, Shepard, but I got an unbelievable scholarship for a prestigious asari university. They want me to join an archeological team as a researcher, and in exchange, they'll pay for my degree. I really can't refuse. I'm heading out early tomorrow with my mother."

"How is Benezia?" Shepard queried. "Harry removed her indoctrination with some sort of mind-magic stuff, but I'd like to hear how she's taking it."

"She's doing fine, Shepard, and thanks for asking." Liara answered. "She's feeling a bit guilty, but that's the worst of it, I think. She plans to go to her home on Illium after dropping me off at the dig site. Well, she's also planning on attending some meetings with the Matriarchal Senate. A bigger bunch of stuck-up wealthy asari I've never seen anywhere else."

"I hope your mother understands that it really wasn't her fault. Anything she did under the effects of Reaper indoctrination were the Reaper's fault, not hers." Jane sympathized.

"I'll tell her you said that. I'm sure it'll mean a lot to her." Liara said.

"Good luck on your dig, Liara." Jane stated, before jokingly adding, "Dig up some Protheans for me!"

"I'll be sure to dig up something at least dangerous enough to warrant spectre involvement, just for you." Liara deadpanned. Jane grinned.

"That's the spirit!"

….

"Shepard, I've been reassigned." Ashley said.

"What?"

"I've been reassigned." Ashley said, louder this time. "I'll be stationed on a few colonies in the middle of the Terminus systems for the foreseeable future."

"Why?" Jane asked, still processing the information.

"I don't know." Ashley shrugged helplessly. "Officially, it's a few goodwill missions. Unofficially? It's political bullshit. Some rear-admiral somewhere doesn't want any reminder of humanity's failures serving with you. I've already told you about the Williams Curse, right? Anyone whose last name is Williams doesn't get promoted past lieutenant, just because we _almost_ had to surrender to some turians during the First Contact War."

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault." Ashley stuck out a hand for a handshake. Shepard ignored it, in favor of a hug.

"Don't be a stranger, Williams."

….

"Jane!" a voice called, before a frantic figure in full armor practically skidded to a stop at the airlock.

"Harry?" Jane questioned, alarmed.

"I have to go! Something urgent came up. There's an assassination I need to stop. I probably won't be in contact for a few days."

"Alright," Jane responded. "That's fine. I need to head out late tonight to check out some leads on the Reapers. The Council sent some information, but I'm not sure how useful it'll be. I probably won't be around here for at least a week."

"That's fine." Harry said, huffing slightly. "Neither will I. We can reconnect somewhere else."

"Got it." Jane confirmed. "Now go save somebody." She paused. Harry waved, and took off at a fast jog out of the airlock. "And be careful!" Jane called as he ran.

….

" **MASTER."**

"Death."

" **MASTER."**

"Death."

" **MASTER."**

"Alright, is there a reason we're doing this? Why am I seeing you again? I don't normally wake up in limbo with you when I die. What changed this time? Was it the way I died? If you're going to be a bore, and give me advice on how _not_ to get myself killed, then I think I can stop that conversation cold. Yes, I know the fall was enough to kill me, but I can fly. Yes, I know I could have stopped the assassin without tackling him off the building, but I could have fumbled other methods, leaving Admiral Kahoku dead. And yes, in future, I will put up a shield charm _before_ the suicide vest activates."

" **JANE SHEPARD IS DEAD."**

"Wait, _what?_ What happened? Why are you telling me this directly, rather than allowing me to find out on my own?"

" **SOMETHING CHEATED."**

"What do you mean by that? Who cheated?"

" **NOT** _ **WHO**_ **CHEATED.** _ **WHAT**_ **CHEATED."**

"What?"

" **EXACTLY."**

"What?! How?"

" **SOMETHING BROKE THE CELESTIAL COMPACT."**

"I have a feeling I'm not going to like that, whatever it is."

" **THE CELESTIAL COMPACT KEEPS THE INHABITANTS OF OTHER DIMENSIONS, SUCH AS WHAT YOU CALL HEAVEN AND HELL, FROM INTERFERING WITH THE MORTAL PLANES."**

"So Jane was killed by demons?"

" **NO."**

"Devils?"

" **NO."**

"Outsiders? Extra-planar beings?"

" **NO."**

"What's left? _Angels?_ "

" **...PERHAPS."**

"Wait, really?"

" **I AM NOT ALLOWED TO ANSWER THAT QUESTION."**

"Why would angels kill _Jane?_ She's the only person I know of with a more developed saving-people-thing than me!"

" **I AM NOT ALLOWED TO ANSWER THAT QUESTION."**

"Fuck. I'm not going to get a straight answer about this, am I?"

" **NO."**

"Why are you telling me this, though? What's your purpose here?"

" **JUST AS A -BEING- HAS BROKEN THE CELESTIAL COMPACT, SO TOO MAY YOU. IN THIS INSTANCE ONLY, I AM AUTHORIZED TO ALLOW YOUR MORTAL FRIEND'S SOUL BACK TO THE MORTAL PLANE."**

"Great! So she'll wake up with a few extra scars, just like me whenever I die?"

" **NO."**

"Fuck."

" **CERTAINLY NOT."**

"Wait a second. You have an actual sense of humor?"

" **NO, I DO NOT."** (Harry suddenly got a very strong feeling that this was not true.)

"Whatever. What do I need to do in order to bring her back to life?"

" **YOU MUST FIND AND REPAIR HER BODY."**

"Sounds simple enough. Where did she die?"

" **YOU KNOW THE LOCATION AS THE PLANET ALCHERA, IN THE AMADA SYSTEM."**

"Alright. I'll head there immediately."

…

Harry woke up, inhaling a breath of cool Illium air as if he had just been drowning. He opened his eyes, only to find himself laying flat in the center of a small crater. Far above, he could just see the top of the building he had fallen from. About fifty feet from the top, a massive scorch-mark and shattered windows showed where the assassin's suicide vest had detonated.

Harry sat up, wincing, and looked around. Flashing holographic crime-scene markers surrounded his crater, displaying the words, " _Caution/Danger/Crime Scene/Do Not Cross"_ in a wide assortment of languages.

To his left, an asari police investigator was busy photographing the remains of the assassin. While it certainly wasn't much, there were definitely enough chunks to get a proper DNA identification. Harry was fairly certain that he had been spared the photographs, as he was still covered in a small layer of dirt and rubble. He leaned forwards, and pushed himself up out of the crater. The investigator looked absently in his direction, looked back at her omni-tool, screamed, and then turned wide eyes and a pistol in Harry's direction.

"It's fine," Harry tried to say, but all that came out was a choked gurgle. He looked down, and saw what appeared to be a few long pieces of metal sticking out of his chest. With a grunt, a wince, and a numbing charm, Harry began pulling the the poles out of his torso. The first spike came out along with a massive spurt of blood, so Harry added a clotting charm. The next came out of his lung with a wet _squelching_ noise, and the third and final spike came out of his upper chest, right below his neck. A cutting curse divided that spar in half, allowing Harry to more easily pull it out.

The asari investigator's gun trembled, and her eyes darted between Harry, and the weapons attached to his armor. Harry absently vanished any and all of his DNA traces nearby, including his blood, which liberally coated the ground around him. He gathered magic to his hands, dispelled the clotting and numbing charms, screamed in pain, and cast an extremely powerful ' _Episkey!'_ on himself. He stood up again. He hadn't realized that he'd fallen to his knees in pain when he removed the numbing charm. He looked at the trembling investigator, gave a jaunty wave, and apparated back to his ship.

Harry landed in the cockpit, and immediately sent the ship into orbit. A few minutes later, he set a course directly to Alchera. While in transit, he removed and examined his armor. It was certainly marked from its time in combat; It was covered in scrapes, scratches, and divots where bullets had glanced off the sturdy material. However, it was now completely broken.

As soon as Harry took his chestpiece off, a massive triangular fragment of poly-ballistic ceramic plating had fallen to the ground. The rest of the chest-piece was equally battered and spiderwebbed with cracks, as well as the rest of the torso. Harry kicked the ruined armor off to the side of the room. Sometime in the future, he would place it in a display case.

Quickly, Harry showered, and changed into his Normandy-issue Alliance casual uniform. It was all he'd brought with him. He'd been on an extremely tight deadline to save Admiral Kahoku. He had succeeded, but even so, it had still been hit-or miss. The Cerberus bomber had gotten almost all the way to his target, before Harry had screamed, "BOMB!" at the top of his lungs, and tackled the assassin off of the edge of the building. The man had activated his suicide vest mere seconds after he realized that he had failed.

….

As soon as Harry's ship arrived in Alchera's orbit, he began to understand the magnitude of his search.

Jane didn't die _on_ Alchera. She died _over_ it.

Harry checked his scanners, and noticed an expanding mess of debris falling into the icy planet's atmosphere. Clearly, a ship had been destroyed here.

"' _Corpus Revelio!'_ He cast, and a grey glow revealed bodies hovering listlessly in the vacuum of space. Over the course of the next hour, Harry began the grisly process of identifying the floating corpses. However, none of the bodies were Jane's. Again, Harry cast " _Corpus Revelio!"_ His eyes flickered all around, searching in vain for the telltale grey glow, until at last he spotted it, faint against the dull background of icy Alchera.

A brief bit of maneuvering with the _Nyx,_ and an ' _accio!'_ charm brought Jane's corpse into Harry's cargo bay. Only then did Harry see the full extent of Jane's injuries. Quickly, Harry hovered the body into the medical bay. He conjured a bathtub, and deposited Jane's corpse inside it. After some fiddling with his shrinking trunk and a few vials, Harry filled the tub to the brim with Elixir of life. Slowly, Jane's body began to absorb the precious serum, healing her extensive injuries.

Harry stepped away from the gurney, and rubbed his eyes. After he found himself pacing, he went to his chambers, and practiced his spellwork until he was able to fall uneasily into a deep sleep.

When he woke, Jane's condition wasn't much better. Healing charms didn't help, and potions didn't do any good. Only the Elixir of Life was having any effect. The corpse was still heavily damaged. Harry sighed, and sat heavily in his chair. This would take months.

..… _Four Months Later_.…

 _The events of 'Mass Effect: Galaxy' occur. (Jacob Taylor and Miranda Lawson defuse a batarian plot against the Citadel Council)_

..….

Garrus slowly stepped towards the ledge. He had been tracking these slavers across the asteroid-city known as Omega for weeks. The Blue Suns mercenaries weren't exactly being subtle, as here on Omega, slavery and all sorts of normally illegal acts were perfectly acceptable. In fact, Omega had no restrictions, other than the infamous decree of Omega's ruler, Aria T'Loak.

" _Don't fuck with Aria."_ Said the law, and only the most desperate, reckless, or insane went against it. With the kind of control Aria had over the galaxy's vicious underbelly, anyone who offended her usually ended up disappearing. Garrus _hated_ her. However, despite her status as pirate queen of the galaxy's black markets, she was actually a stabilizing influence. Without her rule, Omega would have descended into anarchy and lawlessness, leaving the large civilian population stranded in space. Unfortunately, as much the turian disliked her, Aria was a necessary evil.

Garrus had gone out of his way to avoid angering her during his stay on Omega. Even more so, ever since he had taken the moniker 'Archangel' and begun his vigilante campaign against the worst of the criminals on the asteroid. However, the turian was no longer certain that he would be able to avoid Aria's wrath.

The Blue Suns mercenary organization was in favor with Aria, as they had performed some service or other for her. Garrus didn't know quite what. However, a few hundred feet ahead of him, stood fifteen Blue Suns soldiers, guarding almost twice their number in slaves, trussed up in a shuttle.

Garrus hated slavers.

He and the rest of his team had been quietly moving against the loudest proponents of the slave trade on Omega, but this was the first time he had witnessed the Blue Suns sinking to such levels. They usually based their reputation on professionalism and competency, not a 'we'll-do-anything-for-the-money' mentality, like the Blood Pack mercenary group. This specific operation intrigued him and inflamed his curiosity. If only he could get some answers! Questions pounded frantically against his temples.

Why was this sale taking place in such an isolated docking bay?

Who were the buyers? Batarian nobles, like most slave-owners?

Whoever they were, why did they contract the Blue Suns for this?

What services did the Blue suns offer that made them the best choice?

And, of course, why the hell was one of Aria's shuttles watching the area from above? She usually ignored the more clandestine slavers. Why was she then examining this interaction, far away from the high-rise towers of the residential and pleasure districts?

Garrus knew something strange was afoot.

….

Harry needed to let off some steam.

Jane's corpse was completely intact, but she still hadn't returned from the dead. Nothing he was doing had any visible effect on the corpse, and he had exhausted his library of ideas. Well, all the ideas that he was willing to try. (You don't turn your friends into Inferi, even if you're trying to raise them from the dead.)

Since he was in the area, Harry decided to head to Omega. It had been a long time since he had last spoken with Aria. After an incident more than thirty years ago, the pair had slowly become friends. Admittedly, they were highly antagonistic friends with opposing views on that tiny little unimportant thing called 'Morality.' However, they walked in some of the same circles, and had fingers in some of the same pies. Due to their close interaction, they had tentatively began a sort of 'you scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours' relationship. Aria would send Harry information on the most recent events in Omega, as well as lists of upcoming crimes. (Most groups informed Aria of what they were planning beforehand, in order to keep her annoyance to a minimum.)

In exchange, Harry provided information from the wider galaxy. Fleet movements, stock-market crashes, trials, prices on goods of all sorts, battles and their results, etcetera.

Apparently, the Blue Suns had informed Aria of a slave trade they were planning in a few hours. Harry grinned. He would certainly be happy to disrupt that. Killing a few mercenaries and saving a few lives would be just the thing to set his mind at ease.

Harry began preparations. He still didn't have a new set of armor, but he had a grey unmarked older set that was only mildly out of date. Carefully, he donned the armor, strapping straps, and buckling buckles. It seemed too light, Harry mused. He missed the familiar weight of his N7 Adept armor. He would be replacing that as soon as possible.

Harry bounced on the balls of his feet. The next few hours would be exciting, at the very least.

….

Garrus curiously watched a man in a nondescript grey suit of armor sneak out from an alley behind one of the mercenary guards, before taking a large knife, burying it in the man's windpipe, and dragging him back into the alley from which he had arrived.

One down, fourteen to go.

The grey-armored man emerged from the alley, with a thin red splatter mark on his chestpiece. He looked around carefully, before replicating his previous actions.

Two down, thirteen to go.

This time, when the man stepped out of the alley, he moved closer to the main group of guards. He picked up a bottle from the floor, and threw it back towards the alley. Two of the mercenaries split off from the main group to investigate the noise, and began walking towards the alley, single file. They were still unaware of the man's presence. As they passed the crate the grey-armored human was hiding behind, he leaped out, and took the man in back by the throat. A few seconds later, the mercenary's struggles had stopped. The attacker then stepped quietly into the alley, following the remaining man. When he emerged, he had another spray of red particles on his armor.

Four down, eleven to go.

…

Garrus watched a strange ship change its heading, and begin to fly towards the docking bay. It was small, not quite frigate-weight, but looked like no ship the turian had ever seen. Somehow, the ship's design reminded Garrus of a picture of a beehive.

"Collectors!" whispered Weaver, a salarian team member tagging along on Garrus' little vigilante mission. The salarian's face was contorted in surprise.

"What?" Garrus replied. "I don't think I heard that."

"Collectors!" the salarian whispered again. "That ship. I bet it's coming to pick up those slaves. That's all they ever do. Collectors come through the Omega 4 Relay, purchase genetics data, slaves, or corpses, then disappear back through the Relay. Highly abnormal. Apparently they have very specific orders, when it comes to their purchases. An - acquaintance - of mine, former slaver, saw some Collectors trying to bargain for fifty sets of batarian twins, or twenty left-handed asari."

"Huh." Garrus eloquently replied. "Know anything about their ships' combat capabilities?"

"Absolutely nothing!" The scarred salarian joyfully replied. "Should be interesting."

"Great." Garrus grunted.

…

Harry watched a small frigate gliding through space towards the docking bay. He took a precious moment to examine the craft, and recognized it. The starship was a Collector vessel. He frowned. If the Collectors were involved, then something important was happening. Probably something bad.

Ah well. He'd have to stop messing around with the Blue Suns. And he was actually having some fun taking them out without magic. Now, speed became more important than stealth, and magic was, of course, the most time-efficient way of dealing with hostiles. So Harry raised his hand, and muttered a spell.

" _Imperio!_ "

….

Garrus stared in shock as the platform erupted into chaos. The grey-armored man had waved one arm, and one of the mercenaries stuffed a live grenade down the chestpiece of his own armor, before sprinting at a trio of his comrades, gun blazing. Two of them fell, surprised by the attack. Shocked screams rose from the chained slaves, but none of them were hurt. The third mercenary gunned down his former ally, only to fall as well when the grenade's explosion turned his chestplate into shrapnel.

Eight down, seven to go.

The remaining mercenaries, amidst a litany of profanity, rushed to check on their fallen allies. Three medics clustered around the bodies, checking for vitals. The other four took cover, scanning their surroundings for hostiles. One of them jumped at a shadow, and his trigger finger convulsed. A shot rang out, startling the rest of the mercenaries. Their heads twisted to stare at their errant ally.

The man in grey saw his chance and took it. He vaulted over his cover, and landed directly on top of one of the Blue Suns. Here, Garrus' vision was obscured, as the mercenary stood between him and the grey-armored human. However, a second later, he could again see the man, as the stunned soldier fell to his knees, clutching his chest. A moment later, a second explosion rang out. Some of the slaves were splattered with blood and body parts as the three Blue Sun medics were vaporized.

Twelve down, three to go.

The three remaining mercenaries spun towards the sound of the explosion, weapons raised. Two were taken out with precise pistol fire, while the third and final soldier ducked into cover behind a few crates.

Fourteen down, one to go.

….

Harry stepped out of cover to take out his remaining opponent, only to see the looming insectoid form of the Collector frigate approaching rapidly. It looked like the vehicle was going to ram itself into the docking bay! The spell on his lips died as Harry's concentration broke against rapidly rising panic.

The last mercenary, unaware of his rapidly approaching doom, jumped out of cover and opened fire on Harry. The wizard fled, bullets pinging off of his shields. Adrenaline slammed through his veins. His heart pulsed wildly, and Harry realized that he hadn't had this much fun in a very long time. He revised that statement very quickly, as just a few steps later, the outdated kinetic shields on his armor failed. A pair of bullets slammed into his back, both emerging from the front of his armor. Blood sprayed out of his chest, and Harry let out an involuntary wheeze. A quick unbreakable charm on his armor deflected a few more shots, and a Biotic Barrier crackled into existence around him.

Cursing loudly and casting a quick numbing charm, Harry kept up his sprint across the open landing area. He winced, strengthening his barrier against the next few shots as he ran across the center of the bay. Pitifully devoid of cover, the remaining mercenary should have very little trouble lining up a few bullets. However, no shots came, as Harry sprinted to the shuttle containing the slaves. Quickly overriding the lock, he crawled into the pilot's seat, and started the engines. With the push of a few buttons, Harry closed all the doors, and slammed the throttle as hard as he could.

With a dangerous grinding noise, the shuttle launched itself into the air, but not nearly fast enough. In between expletives, Harry cast a powerful banishing charm, " _Depulso!_ " at the front of the shuttle. With a lurch, the craft shot forward, acceleration slamming its occupants into their seats. Behind him, an ear-rending _*SCREEEECH*_ announced the impact of the frigate against the docking bay, velocity thankfully reduced somewhat by the bay's inertial field dampeners.

…..

Garrus watched the grey-armored man duck out of cover- why was he running? -the turian saw the human's shields fall, and winced as the man took a few bullets to the chest as he fled. Garrus was relieved that the man was able to pull up some biotic barriers in time to block a few bullets. Perhaps his injuries weren't as serious as they appeared. However, the mercenary was reloading. Just before the last Blue Sun mercenary took aim at the grey-armored man, Garrus snapped off a shot with his rifle that took the mercenary's head off.

Suddenly, in his peripheral vision, Garrus watched the Collector ship _speed up_ \- it was going to ram the docking bay!

"Hold on to something!" the turian yelled urgently to his team, all pretense of stealth abandoned. "And put your helmets on! If the atmosphere containment shields fail, we'll be sucking void, and if the inertial dampeners fail, we're gonna get tossed around like a hanar in an aircar crash!" Garrus snuck one more look over the rooftop to the docking bay, and spotted the Collector frigate approaching the docking bay at high speed.

"Spirits, what the hell are they thinking?" Garrus muttered to himself, before he braced himself against a ferro-crete pillar. Soon, he found that he couldn't tear his eyes from the spectacle. Like watching a train wreck or an aircar collision in slow motion, he was transfixed.

"I can't believe this is actually happening." his mouth moved, without making any noise.

The turian held onto the pillar like a lifeline, as the docking bay's steel floor rumbled and groaned beneath his feet. Thankfully, he could hear nothing. If his helmet hadn't activated its sound-based-weaponry countermeasures, Garrus was certain that he would've had hearing damage for the rest of his life.

The shuttle that had contained the Blue Suns' captives blasted by overhead, thrusters glowing. Garrus desperately hoped that the grey-armored man was the one in the driver's seat.

Everything seemed to shake as the ship scraped across the bay, demolishing any buildings it passed through. Gradually, it came to a stop, and seemed to fall dormant, lights flickering.

Garrus slowly stood, one hand absently grasping for a C-Sec panic button he'd given up months ago.

"Spirits." He said, voice now audible, as his helmet's noise-cancelling functionality shut off. "Spirits." the turian mumbled again, voice seeming impossibly loud after the silence of his helmet. Then Garrus simply stared.

Impossibly, the Collector ship's engines had somehow come back online. Its eezo core activated, and the frigate's thrusters began to lift the ship out of the long furrow the collision had carved into the docking bay. Metal resonated, clanged, and clattered, as the ship's thrusters swiftly spun the ship around to face the void.

Garrus' eyes widened as the Collector frigate activated its primary axial thrusters. Quickly, he dove for his cover again, as a massive wave of heated air expanded from the frigate's exhaust. With a _*Whumph!*_ the danger was past. There was a very good reason why ships didn't activate antiproton drives in planetary atmospheres, especially in the thin atmosphere of a docking bay. The exhaust of antiproton drives is measured in millions of degrees. Anything caught behind such an engine melts like wax under a blowtorch.

The powerful engine speedily propelled the Collector ship out of the docking bay, but left devastation. The bay's atmospheric shields were flickering, having difficulty keeping the superheated air in. Fires burned all around. Blaring alarms and sirens signalled the arrival of VI-controlled fire-suppression teams.

In the distance, Garrus watched a beam of blue energy tear through the Collector vessel, tearing it in half just as it passed through the Omega 4 Relay.

The turian quickly made his way down to street level, and ushered his ragtag group into a public aircar. After taking off, the turian slowly guided the craft back to his home base. As their shuttle approached the abandoned apartment building, Garrus found himself shaking slightly. As soon as he came through the door, he was greeted by the rest of his team, as he had only required a few extra hands for the mission. Incorrectly interpreted his still-shocked expression, Melanis quickly asked with a wince,

"What happened?" and suddenly, Garrus found it very hard to put into words what he had just witnessed.

"Crash. Big one." he said, trying and failing to articulate the enormity of the event.

"Do you mean an aircar crash?" the female turian asked, uncertain.

"No. It was a frigate. The ship deliberately rammed into the docking bay." The entire team sucked in a breath.

"A _frigate_?" Erash muttered. Meirin nodded. The short salarian was one of the witnesses who had gone on the mission with Garrus. Grundan Krul, the old mute krogan, merely grumbled and groaned.

"Small frigate, but still a frigate. Two hundred meters long, maybe less." Meirin said.

"Let's all get some rest, all right? We can talk about it in the morning." Garrus said, distractedly rubbing one of his hands with the other. General discontent was quickly expressed, though not loudly.

"Alright," Garrus muttered, then, louder, "Alright. Here's the footage from my helmet-camera. I'm going to get some rest."

It was a long time before Garrus' eyes closed, releasing him into dreamland.

…

Harry commanded the Nyx to destroy the Collector frigate, and felt the hostile ship's destruction in a burst of '- _aim-shoot-fire-success-happiness-'_ through his bond with his ship. He shook his head. The skyscrapers and aircars blurred into a mess of color and sound. Harry's thoughts were sluggish. He flew the aircar carefully, heading towards his usual residence on Omega. The slaves in the back clamored, wondering what was happening. A few were crying. Harry was beginning to see dancing black spots around the edges of his vision. (Not a good thing, when piloting an aircar.) A few minutes later, Harry had finally reached his landing pad. As he landed and shut off the vehicle, he tried to stand. He was surprised when he reeled sideways, and needed to hold a railing in order to stay upright.

"Hello?" Harry called, as he slowly made his way to the holding area. "All of you are free, now. I'm just going to come around and cut your bindings. Feel free to remove the blindfolds. I should be able to get you some food soon. And water. Oh, and is anyone injured?"

Harry walked around the room, cutting ropes that wrapped around wrists and ankles. Black spots swum across his vision, and he felt a shortness of breath. A few minutes later, Harry finally removed all the ties and bindings. The first few slaves were just starting to remove their blindfolds, after massaging circulation back into their limbs.

One of the human captives finished removing his heavy cloth blindfold, and looked towards Harry. His eyes widened, and the man rushed over to the wizard's side. Harry watched him speak, and grasp his shoulder, but could hear nothing. Then the world took a sudden sickening shift, as Harry collapsed. His thoughts slowly became more and more sluggish, and his vision filled almost completely with blackness as the floor rushed up to meet him. Absently, Harry wondered why there was such a large red pool underneath him.

Then a thought crossed Harry's mind, and he tried to curse his own stupidity. His jaw twitched, but no noise came out.

He had been shot twice in the chest, and still hadn't removed his numbing charm.

….

"Death."

" **MASTER."**

….

How's that for a chapter?


	9. Meetings, Mistakes, and Messages

"Death."

" **MASTER."**

"What do you need to say this time?" Harry asked. Then thinking for a moment, he exclaimed, "Hey! Jane's body is repaired. Why hasn't she returned to life?"

" **UNFORTUNATELY, THE CIRCUMSTANCES INVOLVED IN HER RESURRECTION HAVE CHANGED."** Death said. " **I APOLOGIZE FOR MY INABILITY TO INFORM YOU OF THAT WHEN WE LAST SPOKE. I AM UNABLE TO SWIM AGAINST THE STREAM OF TIME."**

"Changed?" Harry questioned. "What happened?"

" **THE BELLIGERENT SIGNATORY OF THE CELESTIAL COMPACT INTERFERED ONCE MORE. THE MATTER HAS BEEN HANDLED BY A HIGHER POWER."**

"A higher power?"

" _ **THE**_ **HIGHER POWER."**

"Ah. -I understand. I think. So what does that mean? Is Jane permanently dead?" Harry asked with a wince.

" **NO."** Death said, with an air of finality. " **HOWEVER, IN ORDER FOR HER TO WAKE, YOU MUST PLACE WITHIN HER HEART AN OBJECT SIGNIFYING REBIRTH OR RESURRECTION."**

"What do you suggest I use?"

" **I AM NOT ABLE TO ANSWER ANY MORE QUESTIONS ON THE MATTER. AS I AM A NEUTRAL PARTY, THE CELESTIAL COMPACT FORBIDS MY INTERFERENCE, TO A DEGREE."**

"Alright. I think I know what I'll be using, then. Could you send me back?"

" **AT ONCE, MY MASTER."** Death said, and Harry disappeared with a whoosh.

..

" **TRULY, MY MASTER, YOU HAVE BROUGHT ME HOPE."** Death spoke, as soon as Harry had fully returned to the mortal world. " **THIS GALAXY MAY YET HAVE A CHANCE TO SURVIVE THE HARVEST."**

…

Harry's senses returned slowly. His fingers twitched. Off in the distance, he heard voices.

"That man saved us. All of us. He gave his life for ours, I guess. If only we could thank him somehow. Does his omni-tool show his identity? Maybe we can finish something for him, or send money to a charity in his name." Hands reached for Harry's wrist, and he jerked involuntarily as his senses fully returned.

"It's all right." He tried to say, but all that came out was a cough. Harry sat up, and spat out a mouthful of blood. "I'm alright." He said again, succeeding this time. His voice was hoarse, but still intelligible. A few of the former slaves gasped, and rushed to help.

"I'm alright, don't worry." Harry repeated. "I've got a special program in my armor that mimics death, while pumping medi-gel through my veins. I think I forgot to shut it off after getting shot."

There was a general sense of clamorous surprise for a long few minutes after his proclamation, as Harry eased the worries of the slave-shuttle's passengers. He was forced to repeat the phrase, "I'm fine, really!" more times than he could recall, and had to remove his chestplate to show his now-healed wound to the group twice.

Harry was firmly resolved to never die in close proximity to witnesses ever again.

After convincing all of the overly-worried former-slaves that he was medically stable, Harry unlocked the door to his home on Omega. Perhaps it was unwise, allowing unknowns into one of his houses, but Harry didn't currently care. He would feed, clothe, and even house them if necessary, the consequences be damned. He could always buy another residence somewhere else on the asteroid-city of Omega. For the moment, however, he simply ordered a few hundred credits worth of drone-delivered take-out-food for the recently-liberated slaves.

As soon as he got a free moment, Harry went back out to the shuttle, and disposed of it by ramming it at high speed into a Blue Suns mercenary compound on the outer edge of the Omega asteroid. He apparated away just before the collision, appearing outside the medical bay of his ship, the Nyx.

Going through his pockets, Harry pulled out the one item

On a table, immobile, lay Jane's body. Carefully, Harry prepared for surgery, as he would have to place an object directly in her heart. After spending an hour sanitizing and preparing, Harry finally admitted to himself that he was just delaying the inevitable. Harry walked over to the table, and began the surgery.

With a stasis charm and a few cutting curses, Harry found himself staring at Jane's unbeating heart. Another cutting curse halved the organ, and Harry began to slide the Resurrection stone from his finger. However, seconds later, he had another idea.

"Fawkes?" Harry whispered tentatively. A few seconds passed, and Harry called, louder this time. "Fawkes!"

Nothing happened.

Harry was just about to conclude defeat when Jane's heart began to glow. Slowly, it grew brighter, and the sound of phoenix song became louder and louder. Harry watched in awe as a magnificent phoenix feather materialized and wrapped itself around Jane's heart, sealing it back together. Slowly, ever so slowly, the heart began to pulse weakly in his hand. A strange joyful feeling arose in Harry's chest as he sealed Jane's wounds, and removed the stasis charm. She was alive!

Color was slowly returning to Jane's face, and Harry was certain she would wake soon. Ecstatic, he quickly portkeyed the entire gurney back to his home on Omega. He'd be on the asteroid for a while, and he didn't want Jane waking up alone on his ship. However, he needed to tend to the slaves. A few of them were injured, and one had taken a bullet wound in the confused scramble of Harry's fight to free them.

A few moments after he finished healing the injured slave, his detection wards went off in a pulse of red lines across the ceiling. Five hostiles had just landed on the roof.

"We've got incoming!" Harry cursed. Most of the former-slaves turned to look at him. "Be careful. Five enemies just arrived. They'll be coming down the stairwell or the elevator. I'm going to try to head them off before they get to either." Quickly, he logged on to a terminal, and opened up security camera feeds covering the top floor. After a few seconds of examination, he spoke his conclusions aloud. "Blue Suns. They're probably here for all of you." Harry announced, before he took off running. Once he rounded a corner, he apparated up a few floors, and landed smack-dab in the middle of the five mercenaries.

" _Impedimenta!"_ He quickly cast. Three of the mercenaries were slowed almost to a standstill by the magic, but the two furthest were unaffected. Harry took out the two most distant with his pistol, before muttering " _Imperio, Imperio, Imperio, Obliviate, Obliviate, Obliviate!"_ as he took command of the three surviving mercenaries. After efficiently erasing the mercenary trio's memories, Harry sent them back to their local command compound, and ordered them to remove all evidence of his existence, and the existence of the slaves he'd liberated. They were then to completely destroy the mercenary facility.

After the fighting was over, Harry looked around for concerned or suspicious neighbors, but found nothing. Gunshots, after all, were a common enough occurrence on Omega. He walked slowly back to the elevator, contemplating the events of the past few days. One of the elevator's buttons lit up green as Harry pushed it, sending himself down a floor to his apartments. The doors slid open, revealing the liberated slaves locked in furious discussion. Voices rose, and the room was rife with tension. Harry cleared his throat, and the room went silent. The slaves stared en masse in his direction, and a few backed away from him.

Clearly, they had been watching the footage from the security cameras.

"Damn you, for using Unforgivable curses! You'll go to prison for that, you will!" An elderly woman shouted, as she shouldered her way through the crowd.

Harry blinked.

"Are you all magicals?" He asked, confused. "How do you know about Unforgivables?" A few people scowled.

"We're all squibs, not magicals." The same old woman spoke up. "We went off to start our own colony, far away from reminders of our 'disability'. Then we all got kidnapped! And all of a sudden we get pulled back into the magical world, with all it's problems. You'll have to erase all our memories, if you want us to forget about those curses. We all heard you put those mercenaries under the _Imperius_. Why don't you send us back to the slavers, you evil bastard?" She scowled. "What's next? Human sacrifice? Torture?"

Harry blinked again.

"No, not at all!" He protested vehemently. "I've got a license for Unforgivables, honest!" For some strange reason, Harry felt as if he were making excuses to Professor Mcgonagall. "I was an Unspeakable." The lady looked suspicious, before her eyes opened wide as he pulled out a small laminated card not dissimilar to a driver's license. As the group watched, it began to flash with a pale white light in an irregular pattern.

"You can't be- Are you really?" the woman breathed, almost reverently, as she examined the card. "You're _Harry Potter?_ " She questioned, eyes pleading. Harry winced, scowling.

"Yes, I am." He confirmed. "Please don't spread it around. I've been just fine with my anonymity for decades."

"Of course!" the woman said, glaring at the rest of the slaves as if daring them to contradict her.

"Listen," Harry spoke up, while deep in thought. "You guys can all stay here as long as you want, just be careful. There's a small armory on the bottom floor; feel free to take whatever you need. Don't go outside alone, and remember that this is Omega. If you want to leave, I can give you some credits for a ride wherever you want to go. However, I need to leave here soon, as I have some business that I need to take care of. Just- Be careful, alright?" Harry said in a resigned tone, before he apparated to the armory, and donned an extra suit of his modified N7 Adept Armor. He relaxed with the familiar weight on his shoulders, and the familiar shield on his belt. He was safe, now. The shield was the same type that was placed on Alliance interceptor-class fighters.

Then Harry looked to the side, and saw an old acquisition of his. A half hour of work completed it. He held up the rocket-propelled grenade launcher and grinned, before dropping it into an expanded pouch on his belt.

As soon as his jaunt to the armory was complete, Harry took the elevator to the medical wing, where he had placed Jane's slowly reviving body. However, something strange immediately jumped out at him.

Jane was gone.

….

Jane's eyes opened, and she stared sightlessly at the ceiling. She remained that way for a few moments, before realizing that she had woken. Stiffly, she sat up, and gazed absently around the empty room. Then something made her spine chill. Gunshots echoed around, coming from multiple directions.

She was out of the bed and looking for her armor before she registered that she had moved in the first place. Only when she found it, below her bed -(A gurney? How curious.) did she realize that she was dressed only in a medical gown. After a few seconds of observation, she found an Alliance uniform with her name on it, along with appropriate undergarments.

Quickly getting dressed and armored, she looked around for weapons, and found a bulky pistol on a table near the gurney, along with her omni-tool. Turning it on, she waited for the loading screen to fade to black, before securing the device on her gauntleted wrist.

Then her mind caught up with her, and she realized just what had happened before she had woken up.

She had died.

The Normandy had exploded, destroyed in a vicious surprise attack from an unknown ship.

Jane's blood boiled. Whatever organization with the temerity to attack a spectre would soon be in deep trouble.

However, that would have to wait until Jane could figure out where she was. Opening up her omni-tool, her eyes scanned the public-access map of the area. Then a word popped out at her.

Omega.

Jane cursed. How had she gotten here? How was she not dead? And most importantly, when could she get off this lawless rock?

First things first, however. She needed to get out of here- wherever here was. Based off of the suspicious lack of machines and medics, this was clearly not an Alliance facility. In fact, Jane quickly concluded she had woken up in a private residence of some sort. Judging by the dust, a residence which was not frequently used. It was also strangely old-fashioned. The doors had doorknobs, of all things.

Jane's search for escape routes led her first to the door, before she stopped. Turning around, she walked carefully to a large window, which looked out towards another building across the street. She estimated she was around ten or twelve floors up. Much too high to jump. However, Jane stared across the street towards an old-fashioned fire-escape that ran all the way from the top of the building. She was fairly certain that she could jump across to the fire escape, if she lowered her mass with her biotics.

She walked back to the door, and tried to open it. She twisted the doorknob, and pulled. Nothing. No movement whatsoever. So her options were either to wait for somebody to come for her, or jump out the window to (potential) safety. Jane considered, before choosing the window. There was no way she was going to wait in a hostile location for an unknown being. So, with a tinkling crash, the window shattered as Jane bashed the butt of her pistol against it. She took a few steps back, and then made a running leap, activating her biotics as soon as her feet left the ground.

She almost shut off her biotics in surprise when her biotic aura appeared. Instead of the normal blue-purple hue, her biotic field was now a nimbus of gold energy, shot through with blue light. She soared through the air, desperately praying that she's be able to find a handhold on the other side. Her prayers became even more fervent as she caught a glimpse of the drop below her- she knew she would have a very slim chance of surviving the fall.

With a clang, Jane's hands hit the fire escape, and scrambled for purchase. A brief moment later, Jane sighed in relief as her arms found a secure grip. Clambering up over the side of the railing, she lay herself flat on the fire escape, triumphant. After a brief rest, she stood back up, and made her way down the stairway towards ground level. Unfortunately, the fire escape didn't go all the way down. It stopped at the fourth floor, where a ladder was locked in place. Perhaps if Jane was able to hack the lock- no, that wouldn't work. The lock was far too complicated. The days where any lock could be removed with enough omni-gel were long gone.

So Jane jumped. She'd be fine, of course, as all N7 armor comes equipped with boot-jets certified for a fifty-foot drop, and the ICT program, also known as N-school, trains all its inductees in their use.

Carefully slowing her descent, Jane landed in the middle of a small dirty sidewalk, and looked around for observers. 'Now what?' she wondered, as she took in her surroundings. After a brief look around, she opened up her omni-tool, checking to see if any people on her contacts list were nearby. She didn't expect any members of her team to be here on Omega, of all places-

Then a name popped up.

/- _Liara T'Soni-7.2 Kilometers- Status: Offline.-/_

Jane started jogging.

…..

 _Harry took the elevator to the medical wing, where he had placed Jane's slowly reviving body. However, something strange immediately jumped out at him._

 _Jane was gone._

…..

Liara was pleased. Thanks to Cerberus, she was well on her way to finding the Shadow Broker. In fact, she just needed a few more pieces of data.

"This should complete the puzzle." Her contact, Miranda, stated. "We'll finally be able to track down Shepard's corpse, as soon as we collect the data from Aria."

"Thank the Goddess." said Liara. The Shadow Broker had collected Jane's body, and according to Cerberus intelligence, was planning on selling it to the Collectors. Liara couldn't let that happen.

"Liara?" A familiar voice said, startling her.

" _Jane?"_ Liara whispered. She spun around, and her hand went to her gun.

"It's me, alright." Jane confirmed. Answering Liara's unasked question, she continued, "I just woke up, and my omni-tool said that you were nearby. I didn't really have anything else to do, or anywhere else to go, so I decided to head towards you."

"How do I know it's you?" Liara questioned, suspicious.

"Well, I could tell you about the way you thought I was a hallucination when we first met." Jane paused. "Does that convince you?"

"Not quite." Liara said, wavering. "What happened on Noveria? If you can answer that, I'd be more inclined to believe you."

"Well, Harry showed up as soon as we were about to leave for Peak Fifteen." Jane continued, "Then we found Reaper-enhanced Rachni chasing a Rachni Queen."

"What was the Rachni queen holding?" Liara interjected.

"Your mother." Jane answered.

"And how did Harry save us all?" Liara continued, Surely an imposter wouldn't be able to answer those questions.

"He burned hundreds of Rachni to death?" Jane said, not sure what answer the asari was looking for. "Then he got everyone out in one piece?"  
"Jane! I can't believe it's really you!" Liara cried, now convinced. Her hand left her gun's grip, and she tackled her former commander in a hug.

"Yeah, it's me. So what's going on?" Jane asked. "What are you doing on Omega?"

"Well, the university program I was invited to didn't pan out, unfortunately." Liara explained, "I was supposed to work as a researcher, but the site they wanted me at turned out to be little more than a few Prothean artifacts and a crater. So the University reneged on their deal."

"Isn't that illegal? What did you do?" Jane asked.

"I sued their pretty blue asses off, of course!" Liara exclaimed, before whispering, "I'm now a multi-millionaire!" into Jane's ear.

"I assume that's not public knowledge, then?" Jane laughed.

"Not at all." Liara smiled. "They didn't want anyone knowing how much they settled for, so they gave me even more money in exchange for a non-disclosure agreement."

"Excuse me?" Miranda interrupted the pair. "We were under the impression that the Shadow Broker had your body. How did you get here?"

"I woke up, and jumped out a window." Jane said. "Who are you?"

"Miranda Lawson." The woman explained. "I'm Liara's contact with Cerberus."

"Cerberus?" Jane wrinkled her nose. "Liara, why are you working with terrorists?"

"They were the only ones willing to help me find your body." Liara said, eyes downcast. "The Alliance concluded that your trajectory would have taken you into Alchera's atmosphere, and the Council based their findings off of that. There's even a memorial statue on the Citadel. It's called 'The Lions'. It's you and Harry, side by side, with a pair of plaques. One has the names of all the crew who served on the Normandy during the Eden Prime War, and the other has the names of all the crew who died over Alchera. It was actually a massive surprise, as the Council requested the statue's creation without input from their governments. They just felt that they should honor you."

"Now that's impressive!" Jane exclaimed. "They gave us a statue?"

"Yeah." Miranda confirmed, pulling up a picture on her omni-tool.

"That's a pretty big statue." Jane muttured.

"Twenty feet tall." Liara added. "I checked."

"You checked the height in particular?" Jane asked, curious.

"It's got my name on it, Shepard." Liara defended. "I can hardly be ignorant about it."

The trio's conversation began to dissolve further into jokes and humor as Jane and Liara began to catch up with each other. A few minutes later, they began to walk towards the Afterlife bar, where they would be able to pick up their data from Aria. On the way, they began discussing discussing current affairs, bringing Jane up to speed with the last few months worth of news. The bouncer waved them through the entryway quickly, with a muttered,

"Aria's waiting for you."

The trio made their way directly towards the seat of Aria's power: a literal couch, from which she controlled vast sums of money, and entire battalions of mercenaries. As they approached, a guard scanned them for weapons, making sure that they concealed nothing.

"Hello, dearies." Aria said in a mocking tone. "You're hunting the Broker. You paid me for this information, so take it and get out."

"Thank you, Aria." Jane added, as a courtesy. Aria smiled.

"Just for that, I'll give you a little hint. When you meet -him or her,- you won't kill the Broker."  
"I'm fairly certain I can kill just about anyone I need to." Jane replied, confused. Surely Aria of all people hadn't underestimated her?

"Won't. Not can't. You will not kill the Broker." Aria laughed at some private joke. "Now scram."

…..

"That was a strange encounter." announced Jane, a few minutes later. "Is she always like that?"

"Yes, usually." sighed Miranda.

"What do you make of that last comment of hers?" asked Liara.

"I think she threw it in just to screw with us." Miranda interjected.

"Well, that's certainly possible, but I have this nagging feeling that she was telling the truth." Liara continued.

"I don't know." Jane fidgeted. "We'll deal with the Broker when we catch him. Miranda, have you looked through Aria's data yet?"

"Yes I have." Miranda confirmed. "Thanks to this, we can track the Broker back to a large section of the upper atmosphere of a planet called Hagalaz."

"That'll take a long time to search." said Jane, slightly dejected.

"Yeah, well I'm okay with that." Liara stated passionately. "As long as we catch whatever bastard tried to get his grubby hands on your corpse, I'll be fine."

"Well we're not getting any closer to them by standing here." Jane replied. "Do either of you have a ship we can use?"

"I've got a FTL-capable Kodiak stealth shuttle." Miranda offered. "I think that's the best we'll be able to do."

"You're probably right." sighed Liara.

"It's not the Normandy, but it should suffice." added Miranda.

"As long as you can get us where we need to go." Jane ended the conversation.

…..

 _Dear Harry,  
What happened at the Citadel? And don't even try to deny that you weren't there. The old Weasley Clock - you know, the one whose hands show family members- said you were on the Citadel for most of the battle. It was wavering between 'Mortal Peril' and 'The Citadel' for most of the day.  
I'd love to hear from you, Harry. I'm certain you're connected with the Council's actions as of late. I mean, repealing the Treaty of Farixen? Tax breaks for civilizations able to double their dreadnought production in the next three months? Something's happening, and I figured you'd be right in the middle of it. _

_Keep in contact, Harry._

 _-Hermione_

…

Harry turned the message over again in his mind. He had received it only days after the Battle of the Citadel, and he still hadn't replied. Hermione wouldn't be happy. In fact, she was probably long past impatience, and well into annoyance. Harry sighed.

He'd examined the magical community briefly- made sure that everything was fine, and that there weren't any dark lords terrorizing the population- then he'd vanished. Disappeared.

He and Hermione hadn't spoken face-to-face since.

 _Dear Hermione,_

Harry began his reply, before he realized that he just wasn't sure what to say. "We almost got invaded by a shit-ton of robot squids" just didn't seem very eloquent, and "The Reapers arrived" sounded too cryptic. After thinking for a moment, Harry composed himself and restarted his message.

" _Dear Hermione,_

 _I suppose you deserve to know exactly what happened, so I guess I'll start at the beginning. A spectre by the name of Saren Arterius found a Reaper somewhere. I don't know the exact details. What matters is that the Reaper eventually took control of his mind, and attacked Eden Prime. According to Jane, there was a Prothean Beacon there that Saren was after. Of course, Eden Prime is where Jane got involved. Apparently, the Beacon functioned as a Pensieve, albeit one much more volatile than normal. She became a spectre, and was assigned to Saren's case. Jane's first mission was to track him down and bring him in, dead or alive._

 _I got involved on Noveria. Jane and I knew of each other, and she decided to invite me to join her crew. I accepted, and arrived right before her team was set to attack a facility on Noveria. From there, we visited Saren's base on Virmire in the Terminus Systems, before stealing the data we needed to get to Ilos, a Prothean planet. We followed Saren through a large facility all the way to a miniature Relay which took us to the Citadel. We arrived, quite literally, in the middle of Saren's troops. (After the battle, we had to scrape the remains of krogan and vorcha clones from the bottom of the Normandy's shuttle.) We took the shuttle to the Council Room, and encountered Saren there._

 _Then Jane convinced him to kill himself. Craziest thing I've ever seen, and I've been putzing around the galaxy for decades. Sentient homicidal plants? Glowing blue space-magic? Thresher Maws? I've seen it all. This, however, was the first time I've ever seen somebody convince a spectre to commit suicide. (Although he probably wasn't in the most stable mental state.)_

 _The unfortunate bit is that the Citadel is actually a massive Relay. There's a few smaller copies in Dark space past the edges of the galaxy, according to my crystal ball. So Saren managed to activate the relay, although a nifty Prothean AI we rescued managed to shut it down before any more than three or four Reapers arrived. Then my fleets arrived and took care of the threat. I think that covers most of it._

 _Hope you're doing well, Hermione!_

 _-Harry_

He sent the message, scowling in frustration. He didn't doubt for a moment that he'd be receiving a flustered reply stating something along the lines of,

" _What do you mean, YOUR fleets? Is that what you meant when we spoke after the First Contact War? Do you really command the fleet that saved the Citadel, and ended the First Contact War? Harry Potter, I'm going to END you!"_

Harry grinned. He sat back, reminiscing on his school days, until he was pulled out of his reverie by an urgent beeping noise from his omni-tool. He was receiving a call.

"Hello?" He answered, knowing already who was calling him.  
"It's Aria." A familiar voice prefaced the rest of her message. "Your friend the blue archeologist and her old commander are trying to hunt down the Shadow Broker. I directed them to your ship on Hagalaz. The issue is that they've got a Cerberus operative traveling with them. You'll probably have to scare her off."

"Do you happen to know the name the operative is using?" Harry queried.

"Of course I do." Aria's voice confirmed. "Nothing happens on this rock that I don't know about." she paused, waiting.

"So what's her alias?" Harry teased. "It looks like you forgot to mention something."

"There's a price for that information, you know." Aria sing-songed. Harry groaned.

"What do you want?" he asked. "Your normal price?"

"Yep." The asari said with a smug grin.

"Alright. What's the alias?" Harry conceded. Aria's grin widened.

"Miranda Lawson." At this, Harry's eyebrows raised, and his eyes focused on the screen.

"That's not an alias; That's her actual name. I've met her before. I have no idea why she'd tell Jane her real name. Maybe she thinks they'll be working together on a more frequent basis, and doesn't want to be seen as dishonest? I don't actually know."

"You met a Cerberus field agent?" Aria questioned incredulously. "How did that work?"

"Well," Harry collected his thoughts. "She was supposed to try and recruit me. She didn't succeed."

"Obviously." Aria snorted. Something off-screen caught her attention. "I've got to go. I've actually got business to take care of, unlike you."

"Hey! I resent that." Harry joked.

"Bullshit." Aria called, before lapsing into morose boredom. "You're about to go prank a couple of your old teammates. I've got to deal with a bunch of mercenaries up in arms over some vigilante calling himself Archangel."

"Hey!" Harry started. "He's a friend of mine. Could you do me a favor, and not give those mercs anything about him?"

"Eh, fine." Aria capitulated. "Now fuck off. I've got work."

"You call 'messing around in a strip club' work?" Harry teased. "Sounds a lot more like 'play' to me."

Aria smirked, flipped him the bird, and hung up.

….

"Alright. So I'll be piloting the shuttle and serving as your extraction, if you need it. I'm planning on dropping you off here. You'll then have to make your way along the ship to this hatchway." Miranda pointed out a few locations on a glowing blue hologram. "From there, you'll be able to gain access to what should be the control room. If the Broker is aboard, that's where he'll be. Any questions?"

…

The shuttle hummed across the sky, stealth drive active. It weaved in between clouds, as lightning struck around it. Inside the shuttle, there was silence. Jane's hand on her armrest was in a tense white-knuckled grip, as the craft lurched and shook. Liara was engrossed in some readings on her omni-tool, while her other hand caressed her pistol's grip. The asari startled whenever the shuttle hit a particularly violent bit of turbulence.

"We're here." Miranda's voice wavered through the loudspeaker. "Open up the door, and hop out. I'll be able to get you if you need extraction."

Jane slid the door open, and found herself being pushed back hard by the constant wind that was omni-present on the planet Hagalaz. She jumped down a few feet to the ship's deck, and pulled out her pistol. As Liara followed her out of the shuttle, Miranda's voice hissed through their earpieces. Static, sharp and strident, made itself present as she spoke.

"Good luck."

….

Miranda carefully set the shuttle to fly in a holding pattern around the ship. She would not admit to herself that she was nervous, as she waited for Jane and Liara to complete their mission. She found her mind drifting to worst-case scenarios and what-ifs, and found herself breaking radio silence in order to reassure herself.

"Everything all right down there?" her voice quivered.

"Yeah." Jane's voice, loud and confident, came back. "Just fucking _peachy._ " Gunshots interrupted her sentence. "We're fighting the Shadow Broker's elite security force, it looks like. We're making progress, but it's slow. And their bodies keep disappearing whenever we kill one."

"That's good, I guess?" Miranda replied, half to keep herself calm. She was an experienced field agent! Why the hell was she nervous? She shook her head as if to clear cobwebs from her ears. Everything was going well. Right?

…

Jane cursed. Another one of the mercenaries fell. Her ears struggled to pick up any hint of more hostiles, while her own footsteps echoed down the hall. She turned a corner, and saw a large pair of doors mark the end of the corridor. ' _Ksht-'_ her communicator spat, before it resolved itself into Miranda's voice.

"The shuttle's been hit by lightning, Shepard!" she called. "I've got to get out!" Static made another sentence incomprehensible. Then, "I'll be back with another shuttle as soon as possible."

"Acknowledged." Jane shot back, before her attention was diverted.

If Miranda was right, then the Shadow Broker would be right behind that door. There were no hostiles in sight, so she advanced, taking cover on one side of the door. Liara followed, keeping an eye on the hallway they had just passed through. Jane waited for her to shoot a thumbs-up her way before opening the door after a count of three. The entryway hissed open, and Jane's eyes widened.

…...

"Miranda." said a familiar voice. "You need to get out of there. Now. Tell your ground team that your shuttle has been hit by lightning, and get out."

"What?" Miranda's disbelief was nearly palpable. "Why? So far, this is a successful operation."

"Do it _now_! Leave them!" hissed the voice of the Illusive Man.

"I'm not abandoning them!" protested Miranda. "They're taking out a significant threat to Cerberus operations throughout the galaxy!"

"That's an order, Miranda. Leave. Them." her boss stated angrily. Miranda paused.

"I want an explanation, after this." she replied, thoughts whirling. "If Shepard dies, humanity might well follow. You better have some good reasons." She paused, and prepared her lines, before she picked up the radio.

" _The shuttle's been hit by lightning, Shepard!" she called. "I've got to get out!" Static made another sentence incomprehensible. Then, "I'll be back with another shuttle as soon as possible."_

….

Jane's eyes widened.

"Harry?" she asked, uncertain.

"It's me, alright." The friendly voice replied.

"How are you here?" Liara questioned.

"Isn't it obvious?" Harry's tone left little room for doubt. "I'm the Shadow Broker." Jane reeled.

"Why were you selling my body to the Collectors?" She asked, incensed. "I thought we were friends!"

"Wait, what?" Harry's face contorted in confusion. "I never have and never will plan to sell you to anything or anybody. Who told you that I was dealing with the Collectors?" Jane's face flashed hot in anger.

"Miranda, our Cerberus contact." She clenched her hands into fists. "Cerberus lied to us."

"Well, That's hardly a first." Harry's voice softly interjected. "When they tried recruiting me, they certainly lied about Akuze."

"They tried to recruit you?" Jane's eyebrows shot up. "How did that go?"

"Not too well, for them." Harry responded. "They sent the same operative for me that they assigned to you. Although, this time she actually gave you her real name. She gave me an alias. However, I already knew who and what she was. Had her convinced that it was a training mission before too long." Harry laughed.

Suddenly, a thought sent shivers down Jane's spine.

"How do I know you're Harry Potter?" She asked, suspicious.

"Do you want to trade proof?" Harry offered. "I'll prove that I'm Harry Potter, and you prove that you're Jane Shepard. Does that sound fair?"

"Sure." Jane affirmed. "So I'll ask a question that only you would know, and you'll ask one that only I would know?"

"Exactly." Harry smiled. "What city was the home of an evil extradimensional entity?" Jane smiled at Liara's confused expression.

"Tenochtitlan, right?" She asked, fairly certain that she remembered that conversation with Harry correctly. "What did you do to Torfan?" she asked in reply.

"Glassed it." Harry smirked. Liara's eyes bugged out. "I suppose my fleets aren't exactly common knowledge?" Harry poked fun at his blue friend.

"Not exactly." Jane hedged. "By the way, I never got to ask. Did you ever give any technology to the Alliance, or any of the Citadel races?"

"Yes, actually. The new 'Thanix' cannons are some anti-Reaper weapons that I released to the galaxy at large." Harry responded. "They're pretty easy to make, and pack one hell of a punch."

"So what happened with the Council? " Jane asked, wondering about a few pieces of information she'd seen on the trip from the Citadel.  
"Well, you've been gone - _dead_ \- for a few months, so I suppose you wouldn't really be aware of the new changes in the political world." Harry prefaced his next few sentences. "The largest and most important of those changes is that the Council repealed the Treaty of Farixen, and is offering significant incentives to governments able to increase their military spending and dreadnought output by more than three hundred percent." Jane thought for a long moment.

"But," she collected her thoughts, and spoke again. "Are any governments going for that? I mean, are the incentives worth it?"

"Oh yes, they certainly are." Liara spoke up for the first time. "And I hate to 'break your bubble,' as you humans say, but weren't we just killing Harry's security teams fifteen minutes ago?" Jane looked at Harry, whose smile only grew.

"Illusions." He said, after allowing Jane to panic for a few moments. "Every soldier you killed was actually an illusion. None of them were real."

"How-" Jane questioned, not quite able to find the right words.

"How did they look so realistic, do you mean?" Harry gently offered. "Your brain was certain that they were real, so it filled in the small details. However, that's not all illusions can do." He gestured, and the room's cold metal walls melted away, revealing a long, comfortable room filled with comfortable furniture, books, and an actual, wood-burning fireplace at the other end of the room.

"That's impossible!" Liara gasped. "Messing with our minds on such a massive scale-that's absurd!"

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, before he waved his hand. Liara's fists clenched, and her pupils dilated. Blue irises swept every which way, and Liara spun around. Her jaw dropped, and her breath came in short, ragged gasps.

Then Harry waved his hand again, and she blinked.

"That felt- -real." Liara whispered.

"It wasn't real." Harry clarified. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shown you that."

"What did you show her?" Jane asked, curious.

"Prothean society. Ilos, In particular." Harry explained, before quickly adding, "Well, Prothean society before the Reapers invaded."

"Oh." Jane nodded. "I get it now." Liara turned back around, and gave Harry a plaintive gaze.

"I wish you could give me evidence that my colleagues could take seriously." Liara mourned. "You've shown me such incredible things, and yet there is no real proof of any of it."

"If you wanted real Prothean footage, you could have asked." Harry joked, while Jane lightly slapped his arm.

"Don't even joke about that." Liara groaned. "Video of Protheans would be the find of the millennium. We don't even know what they looked like!" Harry coughed, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Let me guess." Liara said, tone flat. "You just happen to know a Prothean?"

"Not quite?" Harry grinned. If not for the scars and armor, butter wouldn't have melted in his mouth. Liara sighed, then plopped herself down in a chair.

"C'mon, show us!" Jane said, while laughing at Liara's predicament. The Asari was busy mumbling expletives and rummaging around in her bag. After a few moments, she found what she had been looking for, and held up a flask triumphantly.

"Alcohol!" the asari pronounced happily, and proceeded to take a few long swigs of whatever liquid the flask contained. Harry shook his head, and pulled up a few pictures on his omni-tool.

"These are all Prothean." He announced. Liara quickly capped her flask. "The term 'Prothean' is not very accurate, as the Prothean empire was composed of a wide variety of races, all of whom called themselves Prothean."

"I was almost right, by the goddess!" Liara slurred. "I should've said that you know Prothean _s_. Plural."

"No, actually." Harry watched in happy bemusement as the asari took another swig from her flask. "I got them from Vigil, the AI from Ilos."

"You're cute when you're drunk." Jane smiled. Liara let out a snore. She had fallen asleep almost instantly.

"She really doesn't have any alcohol tolerance at all, does she?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised. "I've only met one person worse at holding their liquor."

"Lemme guess." Jane said, suddenly. "They're the same type of person? Y'know, scholarly type, not somebody you'd immediately connect with combat capability, sort of -I don't know, bookishness?"

"That's her exactly!" Harry exclaimed, before his eyes unfocused, as if he was staring into the past. "Hermione never could hold her liquor." he reminisced.

"She must have been a good friend." Shepard said.

"Oh, she's still alive." Harry's head turned in Jane's direction. "We've been exchanging letters, but I haven't seen her in person for a few decades." he explained. Jane shivered.

"Wow." Jane murmured. "Every so often I realize one again that you're actually a lot older than I am." she laughed. "I'm only a 'couple decades' old, and you've got friends you haven't spoken to for that long."

"Age sucks." Harry commiserated." "You're thirty this year. Depending on who's counting, I'm either two hundred four, sixty-five, or almost thirty-seven million."

"What do you mean?" Jane questioned.

"Well, I was born in the year nineteen-eighty, and since this year is two-thousand, one hundred-eighty-four, If you count from the date of my birth, that makes me two hundred and four. However, I time traveled back a very long time. I think I've told you this before. I woke up sometime in late two-thousand one-hundred-forty-five. That's thirty-five-ish years from then til now. Although, if you're especially uptight about it, you could count my age by physical years I've been around, rather than years I've been conscious. Since I landed a long way in the past, that would make me millions and millions of years old." Harry explained, before adding, "Honestly, it's sheer luck that I woke up when I did, instead of sleeping through the entirety of human history."

"Lucky bastard." Jane said, surprised wonder alighting in her smile. "So what are you doing next, old man?" Harry smiled a predatory grin.

"I'm hunting Cerberus."

…..

"Alright." Jane sighed. "You just made one hell of a proclamation. Now, instead of explaining, you stopped talking and began typing frantically on your omni-tool. Is there something you'd like to say?"

"Oh. Right. -Uh, I think that means you're planning on tagging along?" Harry looked up from his omni-tool.

"No. It meant that I wanted you to explain your entire plan to a security risk who will be running back to the Alliance as soon as I leave this ship." Jane deadpanned.

"Are you actually?" Harry tilted his head to the side.

"Of course not!" Jane cried. "I'm going to come with you and help hunt down the bastards who are actually trying to collect my corpse!"

"Okay." Harry responded, before his head dipped back down, and he started typing on his omni-tool again.

"Okay. Different question, this time. When are we leaving?" Jane sighed. Harry closed his omni-tool with a whirr and a hum.

"Right now." Harry said as he stood up. "I was just procrastinating a bit." Jane looked around briefly, before spotting Liara's gently snoring form.

"Um, do you want to carry her, or should I?" she offered.

"I'll do it." Harry absently waved his hand, and Liara's insensate form slowly hovered off the chair she'd been sleeping in. Liara let out a few gentle snores, but did not wake. Jane's eyes widened.

"You know," she mused, "Magic never seems to get old, to me. Every time I see something new, I've suddenly got this feeling of wonder that I just can't shake." Harry turned his head to look at her, and let out a chuckle.

"It's the same for me." He said. "Even now, whenever I see something new and wonderful, I still feel the same sense of awe that I had at age eleven, when I was first introduced to the Magical world." He paused for a moment, before adding, "I even have the same feeling of anger when somebody betrays someone else, and especially whenever I discover yet another faction of self-interested criminals."

"Cerberus?" Jane uttered, voice questioning.

"Yes." Harry confirmed. Quickly, he led Jane to an airlock. Liara's unconscious body floated in front of him.

The airlock opened, revealing a well-kept room full of keepsakes and antique artifacts from across the galaxy. Jane followed Harry into the airlock, absorbing the area's homely atmosphere.

"What's this room?" Jane questioned, looking back at the airlock. Why was there a vacuum-seal between the two rooms? What was in here that could necessitate such measures?

"Welcome aboard the Nyx, my personal frigate, and my home away from home." Harry said, gesturing grandly. Only then did Jane realize that the room was not connected to the rest of the ship. It was part of a ship of its own.

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed. "One more thing, before I forget." He raised his hand, and a small vial of green liquid flew from somewhere behind him. As an answer to Jane's unanswered question, he quickly muttered "Hangover-relief potion. Liara's going to wake up with the mother of all headaches."

The airlock closed, and there was a slight lurch as the Nyx detached from the Broker's old ship. Jane followed Harry to the cockpit, as he sat in the pilot's chair and pressed a few buttons. Quickly she found a seat, as the ship changed direction. Then Harry pulled a rather ominous-looking lever, and the star-field visible through the cockpit's observation windows blurred into lines. Jane was well aware that this meant that the ship had just achieved FTL speed, and found the new method of FTL transport to be highly intriguing.

"Get some rest." Harry recommended. "We'll be arriving at our destination soon."

…

"Chronos Station." Harry announced, walking into the observation bay. He took a seat on the couch opposite Jane's, and began his impromptu briefing. "Currently, the station is unfinished, though it still has a formidable amount of automated defenses. In addition to a fleet of a dreadnought, three cruisers, and twelve frigates, the station has a large number of VI-controlled fighters. That's not mentioning the fact that they've got a nearly functional AI onboard."

"An AI?" Jane asked, skeptically. "Weren't those outlawed by the Council- never mind." she said, answering her own question. Harry snickered.

"Hey!" Jane laughed. "I'm not really used to the idea of Council races successfully creating AI yet. That still seems a bit out of our league, tech-wise."

"Eh, not really." Harry replied. "I know for a fact that the salarians have a few, and the Asari government has at least one. They're not difficult to create. Hell, even the Alliance has one." Jane startled at this.

"Really?" she asked, suddenly interested.

"Really." Harry confirmed. "It's called Armstrong. All it does is calculate stuff. Rather boring existence, I'd say, but since it's busy calculating wormhole trajectories and such, I can't really judge. That sort of highly advanced physics is pretty far out of my league."

"How do you know all this stuff?" Jane questioned. She was curious; Harry seemed to know of all the goings-on in Council space, it sometimes seemed.

"I'm the Shadow Broker, and I have access to millions of miniaturized magical microphones." Harry said with a grin. "It's perfect. Even the alliteration works."

"That's the most important part, isn't it?" Jane teased.

"Of course!" Harry exclaimed in mock-horror. "What sort of man do you think I am?"

"The smart kind of man?" Jane offered, jokingly.

"Certainly not!" the wizard replied. "I've done far too many stupid things over the course of my long life."  
"The crazy sort of man?" she asked again.

"Much better." Harry smiled. "That covers most of it, I think."

"Well let's get moving, crazy." Jane replied fondly. "We've still got to go play 'blow-up-the-Cerberus-base' today. I can't let you miss that."

"Of course, although we're just infiltrating." Harry explained. "We're going to steal their AI. However, we aren't blowing the station up. I don't know what fail-safes they have in place, or what back-up plans they've got. We'll be getting that data from the AI, and then I can just infiltrate the same way and plant a few fusion warheads."

"That would certainly take care of the whole lack-of-explosions thing the station has going on." Jane commented.

"Yeah. That it would." Harry smiled, more widely this time. The pair sat in companionable silence, watching the stars outside the observation windows. Neither person particularly wanted to break the mood. Many minutes later, Harry murmured, "I'm heading to the armory." and walked off. Just before disappearing down the stairs, he explained, "I'll be getting ready for the upcoming fight. Help yourself to whatever catches your eye; All the guns and armors are replaceable. Friends aren't." Jane followed him down, and opened the door of the armory to see Harry pulling out drawers and opening lockers.

She checked her armor, and found it to be in good shape, and tested her pistol. With everything in order, she grabbed a few weapons from the armory, along with a couple grenades.

She was ready, and going by appearances, so was Harry.

With everything prepared, the only thing left to do was begin the mission.

….

"Isn't Liara coming along?" Jane asked.

"Not this time." Harry replied, cracking a smile. "She's still out cold. Apparently she had some sort of extremely potent asari liquor in that flask of hers. She'll probably be waking up sometime tomorrow afternoon."

…..….

"Gotcha!" Harry exclaimed, staring at a large screen. Jane looked up.

"Found something?" she questioned.

"Certainly." Harry mumbled, engrossed in the terminal's display. "This is where they're building Chronos station. Normally, whatever they're creating would likely be undetectable, simply due to its proximity to the star. However, it's still being built. A few of the construction ships don't have proper eezo field dampening, or at least their inhibitors aren't installed properly."

"It's still being built?" Jane's dismayed expression forced Harry to revise his last explanation.

"The station's almost done." Harry reassured. "There's enough activity to determine that this area is already being used as a staging area and headquarters, so it's likely that Cerberus command has been moved here already, or will be soon. Either way, we're not here to take out Cerberus' leaders. We're here for their AI."

"How come?" Jane questioned. "How will that help us, again?" she rephrased.

"Their AI has every record of every message, transaction, and operation Cerberus has ever performed." Harry explained. "So instead of activating every countermeasure they've got when we attack, we could organize a coordinated strike against every Cerberus operative in the Alliance. Besides, I have a few friends who would love to crack the AI's code apart and dig through the remains, if she isn't cooperative."

"She?" Jane's face was a mask of confusion.

"She." Harry confirmed. "The AI's name is EDI, which is an acronym for 'Enhanced Defense Intelligence'. And from what I've heard, she's actually got a moral compass, unlike most of the higher-level Cerberus members."

"So this is a rescue mission?" Jane suddenly understood.

"Yeah." Harry grimaced. "And we have to pull it off before Cerberus technicians manage to pull their heads from out of their asses and get their work done. Because as soon as they start messing with her, she's going to either lose her ethics module, get coated in virtual shackles and control commands, or be destroyed."

"So we're on a timeline?"

"Apparently."

"Damn."

….

How's that for Chap 9? What do you guys think?


	10. Heathens and Disbelievers

"Shhh!" Harry hissed.

"Cut it out, Harry." Jane replied, in a mildly annoyed tone. "You know just as well as I do that our helmets have closed sonics systems. None of our speech is audible from outside the helmet, so you can stop whispering." Harry grinned, then spoke in a perfectly normal tone.

"Don't deny it, you were whispering just like I was when we snuck past the sentry."

"Well, yeah, but-." Jane conceded. "It's vital that Cerberus remains unaware of our presence here. We're on an infiltration mission to steal their AI, for god's sake. And the AI core is in the very center of the base, at the most secure point on the entire station. You should have at least a little more caution." she admonished.

"Caution?" Harry snickered. "We've bypassed every single security station with ease. We're floating invisibly underneath the only walkway in sight. In the reactor cooling area, of all places. It's just us and a hundred-foot drop. I think we're fine, at least for now."

"You're right." Jane sighed. "I'm used to a different method of 'infiltration'."

"What, run in and shoot everything that moves?" Harry joked.

"In most cases? Yes, actually." Jane announced, after thinking for a moment. "Although I never thought that I'd be riding an invisible flying carpet into hostile territory." She thought for a moment, and let out a high crazed laugh which stopped almost as quickly as it started. "This is all so absurd. I mean, magic?" she laughed again. "Two years ago, I'd have thought you were crazy to say that magic exists. Now? It seems I can't go a few hours without seeing some new violation of everything I've held to be true. You've twisted the laws of physics into a pretzel a few times on this mission alone."

"Yeah. It was somewhat similar for me when I was first introduced to the magical world." Harry commiserated. "I lived just outside London, in the most disgustingly normal neighborhood imaginable. Though you're probably feeling more shock than eleven-year-old me when I was watching impossibilities occurring right under my nose. At that age, kids can -for the most part- accept the existence of all this stuff."

"I know I can deal with it all." Jane composed herself. "It just might take a bit of time for me to get completely used to this. You know- The whole 'magic' thing."

"That's fine." Harry consoled. "I know you'll be able to cope."

"I hope so." Jane sighed. "I hope so." The pair sat in silence for a few moments, as the magic carpet flew onwards.

"I think that's the AI core just ahead." the wizard warned, as he spied a pair of heavy doors.

"Alright." Jane straightened, and drew her pistol. Noticing Harry made no move to grasp the pistol at his belt, she added, "Weapons out, d'you reckon?" Harry shivered, remembering Cedric's final words in the graveyard.

"Yeah." he drew his sidearm, grasping the handle tightly. "Be careful."

…

Miranda was worried.

Conceptually, she knew that the AI was just a thing, just a few wires and databases. She- _it!_ -wasn't real. Just a heartless, soulless hunk of metal.

However, the woman just couldn't stop thinking about EDI. Somehow, the AI had gotten her to laugh -three times!- with her- _its!_ -dry sense of humor. And now there was a plan to install much stricter shackles on her- _it!_ -which would reduce her- _it! Stupid pronoun! It's an 'it,' not a 'her'!_ -personality core to the same functionality as a mere VI. Miranda tossed and turned in her bed, before she stood, and found herself pacing the room.

"Damn it." She muttered, and began to dress herself. Mumbled curses followed her out of the room, as she walked purposefully towards the AI core. The rapid - _click, click, click-_ of her boots against the floor betrayed her anxiety. Striding past darkened windows and offices, Miranda considered the events that had led up to this.

...

" _Where's your explanation?" She had asked, confused and frustrated. "Why did Shepard have to die?"_

" _It needed to happen." Her boss, the 'Illusive Man,' the leader of Cerberus, had replied. "The best possible outcome of this sequence of events can only occur after Shepard is removed from play."_

His non-answer had come as a shock to Miranda. Normally, the Illusive Man was cryptic, but grudgingly willing to share information. (With her, at least.) And from everything Miranda had gleaned, she knew that it was highly abnormal for his plans to suddenly require one of humanity's greatest heroes' to die. That led to very few conclusions. Foremost in Miranda's mind was the most worrying possibility. And, even worse, it made perfect sense.

The Illusive Man was in the early stages of indoctrination.

She knew how far-fetched the idea was. However, she had read Shepard's dossier on Saren, and his descent from a jaded spectre to a barely-self-aware Reaper slave. The early stages of Reaper Indoctrination seemed to match the Illusive Man's actions almost perfectly.

' _Callous disregard for the welfare of others-'_ Check. The Man had exhibited that trait as long as Miranda had known him, though. She wasn't certain whether or not that meant that he had been indoctrinated before she'd met him, or if he was just messed up.

' _Willingness to sacrifice allies-'_ Check, certainly. In his last conversation with her, the Illusive Man had practically planned out the demise of Jane Shepard, a hero approaching galactic fame.

' _Slowly worsening bias- Usually social, cultural, or racial-_ Yes, the Man had that in spades. His goal for Cerberus, the organization he'd created, had changed from 'advancing Human progress' to 'pushing other races into harm's way', and he was frequently making more and more offensive quips about alien races, turians in particular. Saren's defection from the Council hadn't helped matters at all. Miranda's boss had gone on an actual rant, which was highly uncharacteristic of him.

And even though the Illusive Man didn't show any signs of the fourth and final step Jane had outlined, ' _Slow degradation of mental faculties, leading to eventual insanity,'_ he was still growing more dangerous.

And Miranda still couldn't stop thinking about the AI. Not with The Man's plans for her - _It! Not 'her!'-_ whirling around her head. Nobody- _-Since when had she been thinking of the AI as a person? Miranda couldn't seem to remember.-_ Nobody deserved to lose their capability for rational thought simply because they were dangerous.

Miranda shivered, as she stepped purposefully through the darkened corridors of Chronos Station. Not from cold, as freezing air from a cooling-vent hit her torso, but from worry, and from anticipation.

She would have to move tonight.

….

Jane and Harry swept through the cool air of the server-room, well above head-height. The magical carpet quivered as it passed over an especially tall stack of technology. Harry slowed the carpet's progress to a crawl as a tall familiar woman in white stepped quickly through the single doorway, muttering inaudibly to himself.

Miranda walked carefully towards the central pedestal, which contained EDI's 'Blue box', holding everything that gave the AI a personality. After a brief moment of frustrated confusion, she tapped a few keys on her omni-tool, and reached for the glowing cube that topped the pedestal. Before she could do so, however, a dark figure dropped down from the ceiling, narrowly missing Harry and Jane on the magic carpet.

Harry cursed fluently, reprimanding himself for not casting a single ' _Homonium revelio_ '. The spell could have averted the near-disaster with ease.

The falling figure landed on the hard floor gracefully, with his? Her? back turned towards Harry. Dark form-fitting armor and a long sword hinted at a file Harry had seen, a long time ago. Memories shot to the forefront of his mind, as Miranda viciously hissed the man's name.

"Kai Leng." The man stood, twirling his sword skillfully. Miranda reached for her belt, but found no weapon there. "Harper's personal assassin, come to take me out because I'm not insane, like him? Because I don't want to sacrifice allies to his perverse plans?"  
"You're right. The Man is insane." Leng smiled. "But he didn't send me to kill you. I simply followed you here." the man gloated. "And now, Miss Lawson, I'm going to have to tell him about your- 'change of heart' we'll call it." sighed Kai Leng. "And I don't think the Illusive Man will take too kindly to your betrayal." He took a slow step in Miranda's direction. "And you have a sister." Another step. "If you do this, He'll go after her. And she won't escape." A chill ran down Miranda's spine. Indecisive agony stabbed through her mind.

"It's too late, now." she said, one hand clenched in a white-knuckled fist. "I've already committed to this. There's no going back."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Miranda." The assassin said. "Because I'll be the one hunting down your precious sister."

"He'll sell you out, Leng." Miranda whispered forcefully, clutching at straws. Wisps of biotic energy hissed into existence with the force of her anger, causing the assassin's shields to buzz at the contact. "Mark my words, Jack Harper will betray you. Maybe he already has."

"Jack Harper? Who's he?" Leng questioned innocently.

"Don't tell me you don't know the Illusive Man's real name?" Miranda scoffed. "You've been killing people for him ever since you joined this organization."

"Huh." The assassin nodded. "No, I never cared about his name. I'm in it for the killing." As he spoke, a ball of black biotic energy wrapped itself around his fist.

Miranda's voice became more confident, and her eyes widened as she came to a realization. "Your biotics- That's Reaper tech!" She scowled. "Damn it, Leng! I was right. He's already betrayed you. He's already sold you out!"

"He sold me out for less than nothing, along with every human in existence." The chinese operative laughed. The blade twirled. "He's indoctrinated. Under the Reapers' thrall." The man stood shoulder-to shoulder with his former colleague. Miranda's eyes twitched. She spared a sidelong gaze at the window separating the AI core from the open-air drop into the dormant reactor coolant area.

Kai Leng twirled his sword again, and quickly, so fast that Jane almost missed it, poised the blade above Miranda's heart.

"The Illusive Man is a traitor to Humanity as a whole, Miranda. _And I. Don't. Care._ " Leng moved to push his blade into Miranda's heart, but froze, as if locked in position. His muscles strained, as if trying to break free of invisible bonds. The ball of black biotics in his other hand dissipated in a crackling hiss of chaotic energy. With a jerk, the assassin lifted off the ground, stiff and immobile. His eyes whirled, as some invisible force launched him _through_ the thick glass that bordered one side of the room. A faint scream was soon audible, dopplering as it fell further and further downwards. Miranda spun around, eyes darting every which way. A few tense moments passed, as she found no visible cause for her sudden rescue.

"Thanks." Miranda mumbled to the empty air, then shivered.

Jane gazed at Harry, confused, until she noticed his outstretched hand. Clearly, he had been responsible for the assassin's fall. The pair of infiltrators turned their gaze back towards Miranda, who speedily extracted EDI's 'blue box' from its pedestal, before taking off at a desperate pace back down the walkway.

Then the alarms went off.

"Harry!" Jane cried, as the flying carpet made no move to follow Miranda's fleeing form. "Aren't we going to follow her?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm working on it." he mumbled. "Bloody carpet's being temperamental." He made a vague motion with one hand, and the magical carpet suddenly took off at high speed. The pair quickly overtook Miranda, running across the catwalk towards the closest docking bay. The wide door opened with a muted _hiss_ as she scanned a key-card, and Harry took the carpet through the doors with reckless abandon.

What the docking bay contained stunned the both of them.

"The Normandy." Jane whispered. "Well- a replica. Larger, certainly."

"Definitely. It's got bigger guns, though." Harry added. "Looks like it's set up for some serious stealth work- Those are dreadnought-class heatsinks slung externally on the ship's undercarriage. A Tantalus stealth drive could dump heat for days on those."

Miranda rushed to the airlock door, and looked at her omni-tool. Scowling, she paced in frustration. Her gaze frequently swept across the room towards a small elevator installed in the far corner. A few seconds later, a light lit up, signalling to any outside viewer that the carriage had arrived at its destination.

A tall black man emerged, pushing a man in a wheelchair with a squeaky wheel as fast as it could possibly go. Miranda's sigh of relief was audible even to Harry and Jane, twenty feet above her. She slammed the button to open the airlock, and called to her colleagues,

"Come on! The faster we get out of here, the less likely we are to get killed!" Miranda fumbled with her omni-tool, as Harry brought the carpet and it's occupants into the decontamination chamber.

As the wheelchair and the man behind it approached, Jane and Harry were stunned to recognize one of them.

"Joker?" Jane questioned, with a surprised laugh.

"It's a new Normandy." Harry replied. "Who else do you think they'd get to pilot it?"

"Yeah." Jane reminisced. "That's true."

The decontamination chamber's doors closed with a hiss. The harsh chemical scent of Sterilization-foam thoroughly assailed everyone inside the chamber.

"Decontaminating: Five Passengers." An automated voice announced. Miranda's mouth opened slightly, and her shoulders fell. She looked around for assassins, confused, until her eyes turned upward. With a horrible sense of frustration, Harry realized that the sterilization-foam had stuck to him and Jane; They were now visible, if only from their outline.

"They can see us- I'm lowering the carpet to ground level!" Harry hastily announced.

"What's the plan?" Jane shot back. "These aren't hostiles, and Joker is a friend. Could we go for full disclosure?" Harry considered for a moment.

"Why the hell not?" He responded. "It's not as if they'll be able to talk to anyone who doesn't already know."

"What do you mean?" Jane asked, her tone suddenly dangerous.

"I cast a spell to prevent any sort of information leak." Harry explained.

"Why haven't I heard of this?" Jane scowled.

"I thought you already knew?" Harry defended. "If this is the first you've heard of it, then I guess that means you haven't tried to talk to anyone about- -well, me."

"Okay, so full-disclosure it is." Jane huffed, mollified. A whisper of escaping air heralded Harry's removal of his helmet; His disillusionment, along with Jane's, fell soon after, revealing near-pristine sets of N-7 armor. Jane followed his example, removing her own helmet.

"Hey, Joker." She said, seeing as Harry seemed reluctant to speak.

"Shepard!" the pilot whispered in reply. "I'd heard rumors that you had survived Alchera, but-" His voice stopped, as he became choked up.

"Hey, Jeff." Jane said, in a comforting tone. "It's alright."

"No it's not!" he whined from his wheelchair. "I got you killed! You've never gotten me killed-" His voice tapered off into a mumble.  
"But you've pulled my ass out of the fire more times than I can count, Joker." She replied. "Besides, I'm still alive. That's all that matters. I don't blame you." The man in the wheelchair sat statue-still for a moment, before he pulled his hat lower across his face.

"Stupid decontamination-foam always makes my eyes tear up." Joker muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Excuse me," the man behind Joker's wheelchair interrupted, as politely as it was possible to be with his hand on the butt of his pistol. "I don't believe we've been introduced?" The decontamination-chamber's doors hissed open, as he announced, "I'm Jacob Taylor."

"Jane Shepard." Jane stated. "Nice to meet you." Quickly, she turned to Joker. "Shouldn't we get out of this station sooner, rather than later?" she gestured towards the airlock. Then, facing Miranda, she questioned, "What do you plan to do with the Blue-Box?" Miranda pulled EDI's 'blue box' out, as Joker stood up from his wheelchair, and made his way towards the cockpit.

Harry quietly introduced himself to Jacob while Jane and Miranda spoke.

"This ship has a fully functional AI core." Miranda tentatively announced. "I plan to place the AI there, and have it run the ship."

"Anything else?" Jane probed.

"Yes, actually." Miranda added, fighting not to _-squirm was a highly undignified term-_ crack under the pressure? That was it. Much better.

She was definitely uncomfortable with the lack of her standard sidearm. She still wasn't certain where it was- It had been bouncing against her hip when she walked to the AI core, but had disappeared by the time Kai Leng revealed himself. Perhaps he had taken it? Miranda shivered. The mere thought of being unarmed and in close proximity -unknowingly or not- to the Illusive Man's personal assassin made her tense up. And, while she wasn't useless without a gun due to her biotics, Leng had recently gotten some _strange_ biotic abilities of his own. Miranda had heard some odd rumors about a procedure he'd undergone, and her own recent experience proved that his new powers were granted through the use of Reaper-tech.

She still had some excellent biotics in her arsenal, but she wasn't confident in testing herself against biotic soldiers of Potter and Shepard's caliber. Her biotics were certainly _powerful_ , but not quite on the level of an N-7 Adept, like Jane was. Harry, however, was an unknown. He had gone through the standard Alliance Biotics training, but instead of going to N-School to train as an Adept, he _taught_ the Adept Class. Cerberus had access to terabytes of classified files in Alliance Intelligence offices documenting the man's supposedly impossible biotic feats. She was nearly certain that she wouldn't be able to give him much trouble - biotics-wise, at least.

Miranda knew Harry's face - He was a recipient of the 'Star of Terra' (an extremely prestigious award given to military personnel) and was notorious in criminal circles for leading 'Mortis Solutions,' an alarmingly competent vigilante organization. She didn't think she recognized Harry from any personal encounters, but his voice sounded familiar. Worryingly so. Unfortunately, that meant that Miranda was stuck trying to pacify the two armored (mostly)-unknowns while simultaneously trying to figure out whether or not she'd given either one a reason to go after her.

"There's an infiltration-module for the AI somewhere on board- a body, basically. I plan to bring the AI on any field operations necessary. She'd-" Miranda started, before correcting herself. "It would be an incredible asset for hacking and data skills."

"And what about Cerberus?" Jane asked, quite enjoying the impromptu interrogation.

"I've just abandoned Cerberus." Miranda announced, trying to weigh Jane's reactions. "I've received proof that Cerberus is compromised. Controlled by the Reapers."

"How so?" Jane prodded further.

"I'm almost certain that the Illusive Man is indoctrinated." Miranda announced. Jacob turned towards her, eyes wide.

"What?" He questioned, bass voice quivering. "How long have you known?"

"Since today, really." Miranda responded wearily. "Kai Leng confirmed it when he tried to kill me."

"Slow down, Miri. Kai Leng?" Jacob questioned. One of his hands tapped restlessly on the butt of his pistol.

The Normandy gave a lurch, as Joker pulled it out of its docking bay.

"Hold on to something!" Joker called through the ship's comms systems, as he flared his afterburners and launched the ship away from its mooring. "Stealth drive engaged. Heading for the relay. Gimme a destination sometime before the heatsinks melt into molten slag, Miranda?"

"Set a course for Omega, Joker." She recommended. "There's an operative" _-my sister-_ "I plan on recruiting there." she explained, before returning to her conversation with Jacob. "Kai Leng was waiting for me in the AI core." She explained. "He was going to kill me, but someone-" she looked at Jane. Harry waved.

"That was me." He said. "I launched him through the glass window. He's probably dead, but -" Harry's face took on a troubled expression. "Well, I wouldn't count on it. He went to N-School, so he's definitely trained with fall-compensation boot-jets."

"That's just great." Miranda groaned. "Another pissed-off operative with a grudge." Continuing her narrative, she explained, "he was dropped into the reactor core. But before he died,- here, I have a recording." she said, tapping at her omni-tool. A few seconds later, Kai Leng's voice played clearly through her speakers.

" _He's indoctrinated. Under the Reapers' thrall."_ Leng's voice stated, cool and collected, before continuing in the same deliberate tone, " _The Illusive Man is a traitor to Humanity as a whole, Miranda. And I. Don't. Care."_ Miranda cut off the recording there.

"It's not necessarily the best proof, as it's only vocal, but it's certainly worth something." Jane commented. "So what do you plan to do about that?" the wizard asked. "Take out Cerberus?" Miranda grinned.

"Not quite." she announced. "I'm going to take it over."

"Say that again?" Harry interjected. "I didn't quite catch that."

"I'll sum it up for you-" Joker's voice cut off Miranda, as he quipped through the craft's PA system. "Our glorious sexy overlord Miranda Lawson is going to take over Cerberus via sheer force of will, gluteal muscle-power, and harsh glares."

"I swear I'm going to kill him." Miranda growled, clenching a fist. "One of these days-"

"You'll get used to it." Jane laughed. Harry's grin widened.

"I take it that means we're not enemies?" Jacob questioned.

"Yes, Jacob, that means we aren't going to be shot by a pair of Star of Terra recipients." Miranda replied caustically. "It's not as if the two most famous people to receive the Alliance's most prestigious award are going to murder us in cold blood." she announced, speaking slowly, as if to someone with a terminally low IQ. "No. They. Are. Not. Enemies." she groaned, frustration evident in her tone. "Besides, they would tear through us in seconds, so unless you fancy getting a limb ripped off, why don't you sit down and _not_ antagonize the N7s."

"I don't know, I could go for a bit of comic dismemberment right now." Joker mused.

"Joker. Shut up." Miranda hissed.

"You're right, they are both N7s." the pilot continued, heedless of Miranda's distress. "Their combined kill-count is probably higher than a vorcha stuck in a planet-sized pile of Red Sand."

"Joker? Miranda's turning red." warned Jacob. "You may want to calm down a bit."

"I am _not_ turning red!" Miranda yelled at Jacob, and turned to walk towards the AI core. Unfortunately for her argument, her face was turning a rather impressive crimson.

"Hey!" Jacob exclaimed. "That's not fair, I was trying to help!"

"Well it didn't work, now did it?" Miranda's frustrated voice echoed down the hallway.

"Sexual tension!" Joker called, elongating each word suggestively. "Am I right, Shepard?" Miranda's angry growl could be heard almost a deck away. A few moments later, an almost-human voice played over the PA.

"Hello. I am EDI, the Normandy's new resident AI. My first command as a member of this crew is to tell Pilot Moreau to " _Go fuck himself!_ "" a recording of Miranda's voice played. "Is this a normal example of human interaction?" the AI continued.

"God, no!" Jacob replied. "That's a lot more profane than normal conversations usually are."

"Thank you, Mr. Taylor." EDI responded graciously, before questioning, somewhat curiously, "Under what circumstances would such vulgar language be exhibited, Jacob?"

"Under extreme stress, I think." Jacob answered uncomfortably. "Miranda was -is- probably very annoyed with Joker, so she's allowed to use that sort of language in this situation."

"Pardon me, if I'm understanding this wrong." EDI began, "But would I be permitted to use some of the -stronger- language in my vocabulary?"

"Yeah, if it's warranted." Jacob answered uncertainly, not certain where the conversation was leading.

"What if I felt that a specific individual was personally annoying to me?" EDI asked.

"I guess?" Jacob squirmed. A slight fluttering noise -almost laughter?- emerged from the PA system, before EDI spoke up.

"Pilot Jeff-Moreau's designation has now been changed to 'Executive Jackass.'" she announced, in the most serene voice Harry had ever heard.

"Hey!" came Joker's response. He was nearly unintelligible, due to gales of laughter. He settled down a few moments later, announcing, "Oh, ow. I think I cracked a rib."

"I'll be right up, Jeff." Another voice rang out through the PA system.

"Doctor Chakwas?!" Jane called, in surprised happiness. "How'd they get you here?"

"They told me I'd be working with you." the doctor replied. "It's not every day that somebody resurrects your friends, so I thought I'd best come along."

"Glad you're aboard for the ride, Karin." Harry called over the PA system, exhibiting a level of familiarity Jane hadn't seen him exhibit with many people other than her. She sent a curious stare in the wizard's direction, and in reply, he explained, "I know the good doctor better than most, since she was constantly busy helping me hide all my medical stuff from the Council. Well, and the Alliance."

"What do you mean?" Jacob interjected, confused.

"When I go under one of the new state-of-the-arts medical scanners, they show how long I've been around." Harry's face was grim. Jane understood immediately, and her knowledge shone clearly from her expression.

"I think I'm missing something." Jacob added. "If it's not too personal, would you mind explaining?"

"Yeah, I'll explain in a moment." Harry reluctantly responded. "Though I'd like to have Miranda here, at least. I don't want to have to tell the tale twice, and she deserves to know."

"I would appreciate being 'brought into the loop,' if I'm using the phrase correctly." EDI stated, once Harry finished speaking. "I do not understand your question. You have 'been around' as long as you have been living, correct?"

"Yes, EDI." Harry confirmed. "That's exactly it." He scowled. As he finished speaking, a much more relaxed Miranda appeared from the elevator, shortly followed by the doctor, Karin Chakwas.

"I'd like to apologize for my earlier outburst." Miranda said, in a clipped but polite voice.

"It's alright." Jane immediately replied with a grin. "Joker does that to everybody sometime or other. It's his little defense mechanism."

"Commander!" Joker cried halfheartedly through the PA system.

"Don't deny it, Joker." Jane teased. "You've got too much practice needling people for it to be anything else."

"So I'm a fuckin' hedgehog now?" Joker mumbled.

"No, Mister Moreau." EDI responded, serene again. "Your job title is not ' _fuckin' hedgehog,'"_ the pilot's voice replayed. "Your position is 'Executive Jackass.'" Karin Chakwas let out a rather undignified snort which could only be laughter. Miranda's twitching lips barely concealed a wide grin. Harry and Jane weren't even hiding their amusement.

"Admit it, Jeff, you deserved that one." Harry laughed.

"Ah, hell." Joker conceded. "You're right." He let the group in the CIC laugh for a moment, before changing the subject abruptly. "Now wasn't Harry going to fry everybody's brains again by explaining all his space-wizardry?" There was a brief silence, and a few laughs. Then Harry spoke up.

'Alright, So I should probably explain my earlier comment- -the one that confused Jacob and EDI." Harry tentatively began. "So- -Actually, let's make our way to the med-bay." he cut himself off. "I can give a bit more proof there." Chakwas nodded.

The group made their way to the lift, and crowded uncomfortably inside. Harry's comment, "someone should speed this up at some point." was the only thing uttered during the ride. The crew piled out of the elevator, and made their way towards the medical bay. When they arrived, Doctor Chakwas placed her omni-tool against the door, unlocking it. The doors slid open with a hiss, revealing a modest medical bay with a few machines and gurneys.

"Alright." Harry announced, beginning to unbuckle his chestplate. Doctor Chakwas gathered a few devices, and something that looked uncomfortably close to a drill.

Harry's outer layer of armor came off, revealing his under-suit: the wetsuit-like layer that a soldier wore under his body-armor. It would protect against cold, heat, airborne illness, most acids, and contact-poison, if worn correctly. Harry's was covered in odd inscriptions and symbols, each one slightly luminescent. Glowing lines and shapes adorned every visible part of his undersuit, along with patches and scrapes where his armor had been breached.

"What are those markings, Operative Potter?" EDI queried, fascinated.

"Please, call me Harry." He replied. "'Mister Potter' makes me feel old. -Well, older." he amended. "And I'll get to the glowing stuff in a moment."

"Designation changed." EDI responded.

Having stripped his upper half down to just his armored under-suit, Harry began to unwrap the complicated mesh with expert familiarity. With a quick movement, he pulled off the top part of his under-suit, revealing his pale torso. Long scars and blemishes covered his muscled chest, and Harry prodded a few scars with a sort of reminiscent familiarity. Jacob let out a long whistle, like a mortar shell falling from the sky. Miranda gaped.

"Those are some impressive scars." Jacob said. "How'd you get all those?" Harry stared back at him, with a glint in his eye.

"Ever been impaled?" the wizard said cheerfully. Chakwas covered her eyes, mumbling about 'stupid marines and their pissing contests.'

"Because I certainly have!" Harry continued, in the same cheerful tone. "These three scars are from the last five or six months." He announced, pointing out a pair of jagged circular pieces of scar tissue on his chest, and one on his throat.

"How the hell did you survive that one?" Jacob wondered, pointing at the large white mark on Harry's neck.

"Here, look." Harry turned around. "The exit wound is bigger." Jacob turned awestruck eyes to Doctor Chakwas.

"How is he not dead?" the soldier asked, incredulous.

"Harry, just tell them already, you show-off." Karin Chakwas grumbled.

"Okay." Harry's bright spirits dimmed a little. "Well, let's first explain my comment about my age. That's why we're down here, after all." He walked over to table, and sat down on it. "So this is going to involve the good doctor taking a bone marrow sample from me, so this will involve a drill. And you may want to step back; there may be some blood splatter. And bone splatter. I'll be horribly injured, and-"

"No, there won't be any of that." Chakwas interrupted with an expression that said, 'I've had to deal with this nut before.' "This will just take a few seconds." She explained, as she stuck a needle into the wizard's arm.

"You know that stuff doesn't work on me, right?" Harry asked.

"Do no harm, Harry." She explained wearily. "This is standard procedure. Plus, I'll never get fired from my job for giving an injured person painkillers."  
"But I'm perfectly fine!" Harry protested.

"No you're not. Your injuries just mental, rather than physical." The doctor said in fond exasperation. With a quick movement, she poked him with a drill-like device. There was a brief buzzing noise, before she pulled it out and dropped a small tube into an analyzer of some sort.

"Gather round." The doctor muttered, as she lifted the screen to allow better access to it. "Look at the 'carbon dating' statistic." She stated to the group. A moment later, there were a few curious mumbles.

"So your machine is malfunctioning?" Miranda queried, confused. "You brought us all the way down here for that?"

"Not at all." Chakwas announced. Miranda snorted.

"Well it can't possibly be true, so it has to be a malfunction." she concluded.

"Not quite." Chakwas responded. "Here." she said, placing the sample into another machine. "Look, this comes up with the same figure, if a little less accurate."

"But it's still impossible." Miranda said, now suspicious. "He can't be thirty-seven million years old." she said, summing up the thoughts of almost everyone around.

"Well either way, true or not, do you see why I had to hide that information from the Alliance?" Harry asked the group. "I'd be on a lab table for the rest of my life. Either that, or on permanent assignment to a research facility for study."

A chorus of affirmative answers responded, and he nodded.

"Alright. So I do actually have an explanation for that statistic, as well as my extraordinary survival." He paused dramatically, before announcing, "Magic is real."

Miranda snorted. Jacob looked confused. EDI's terminal in the corner of the room buzzed, and she let out a pensieve hum.

"Operative Potter has never shone any past history of mental illness." the AI mused. "Was Doctor Chakwas complicit in hiding references to that as well?"

"Hey!" Said Harry feebly. "I'm not insane! Well, I guess I haven't shown you any real magic, so your conclusion is completely justified." He admitted. Tilting his head sideways, Harry thought for a moment.

Then he turned Miranda and Jacob into a pair of foxes.

The white one, with a bit of an orange coloration around the eyes, looked around briefly. Then it began yipping excitedly, and jumping about. Doctor Chakwas groaned as the creature stumbled around on her desk, knocking things over.

The other fox, this one a sleek jet black with an orange tail, stood stock-still for a few seconds. It cautiously sniffed the air for a few moments, before jumping up onto one of the examination tables.

Then, as one, the pair of foxes turned their heads towards Harry. The white one leapt at the wizard with a snarl, while the black fox jumped down from its table, and started to roll across the ground, whimpering. Harry transfigured the Miranda-fox back into a human mid-air, and found himself bowled over by her increased weight. From the ground, he reverted Jacob back to his human state.

Miranda quickly stood, brushing herself off. Staring wide-eyed at the wizard, she stumbled a few steps back onto an examination table.

"What the _hell_ was that?" Her voice quivered.

"Magic!" a cheery wizard replied.

"Please never do that again." Jacob announced from the floor.

"How else did you expect me to prove the existence of magic?" Harry questioned. "I had to do something that would irretrievably shatter your current worldview."

"Yeah." Miranda said, shocked. "Yeah, well it worked."

"I suggest we all take a quick break," Harry said firmly. "Let's all go separate ways, and meet at the mess hall in an hour. I'll take questions then."

….

An hour passed in a blur of sight and sound for Miranda, who spent the time jotting down questions, and trying to convince herself that she had hallucinated the last few hours of her life. While walking down to the mess hall at the very edge of the one-hour deadline, she stopped frequently to type question after question on her omni-tool. During the time it took for the lift to lower itself one floor, she filled half a page with rampant speculation, and disjointed thoughts in need of answers. Not long after she emerged from the lift, Jacob joined her on the short trip to their destination. The pair stopped just short of the doors, waiting in unspoken agreement for the third person. EDI soon arrived, marking exactly one hour on the dot. Miranda moved forwards, towards the door, holding her omni-tool extended. The door quickly scanned the device, and opened, once it verified that she was allowed entry. Miranda stepped into the mess hall, typing out one last question on her omni-tool, and then gasped in awe.

….

Jacob spent his hour in the armory, cleaning his guns. Only after he realized that he'd cleaned the same piece six times did he give it up as a futile endeavor. Reassembling his weapons, he headed to the mess hall. Miranda emerged from the lift and joined him on his journey, and EDI arrived not long after. The door hissed open- and Jacob froze in shock.

….

Edi spent an hour humming busily, and detailing thousands of questions. When her time was nearly up, she took her infiltration-suit, a robotic humanoid body, down to the mess hall. Jacob and Miranda had arrived before her, EDI noticed. The door opened with a whisper of pneumatics- and EDI blinked. Clearly, the optical sensors on her infiltration shell were malfunctioning. So she blinked again. Then waved her arms on front of said optical sensors, and deployed a cleaning program.

Still nothing.

So, forced to contemplate the scene before her as something other than a malfunction, EDI estimated the room's dimensions, and compared them to the Normandy's layout. Finding the two to be incompatible, she checked her sensors. Clearly, her estimates were correct. Also clear was that this room - no longer just the mess hall - shouldn't exist.

EDI stood still. Back in the AI core, her processors whirled, all working on finding some way for science to explain what she was seeing.

….

"Hey Harry, where's Liara?"

"She's back on the Nyx, sleeping off her alcohol-induced stupor. I still have no idea where she got firewhiskey, by the way. She'll probably be waking up sometime tomorrow."

"Is she just joing to miss this little question-and-answer session?"

"Nah, I'll just beam it into her brain as she's sleeping. She'll wake up knowing everything we'll talk about."

"-Alright. Magic is absolutely insane."

…

An impossible sight greeted all entrants to the mess hall. Once, the room was barely big enough to house two-thirds of the crew at the same time. Now it was unrecognizable.

An incredible valley, verdant and lightly forested, had replaced the entire room. High walls of dark granite at the room's corners climbed up to a distant vaulted ceiling, and a few small waterfalls cascaded down the rocky walls, darkening the stone. Starting below each waterfall, moss-bordered rivers ran down into the center of the room, where they joined a great sparkling lake dotted by white-capped waves. Twelve fountains as tall as buildings rose up from the calm blue surface, arranged horizontally like the numbers of some massive clock-face around a small central island. Birds flew through the air chirping gleefully, and a glowing golden sphere in the artificial sky beat on the brow, performing a perfect impression of Earth's own sun.

EDI, Miranda, and Jacob's footsteps pattered lightly on the broad cobbled path leading to the lake's edge. The artificial sun shone brilliantly in the deep blue sky, somehow projecting its brilliance onto the arching ceilings. A few hundred feet off in the distance, the twelve towering fountains of water produced a deep bass cymbal-crash that reverberated across the valley, and guided a constant cool breeze to tickle the group's exposed skin with minute particles of water-spray. The cobbled path led onwards, changing to a darker wooden dock as it entered the lake. The boards creaked softly as the group passed over them, taking in all the sights and sounds of their new environment.

Looking past the fountains, upon the small island in the lake's center sat a pair of humanoid forms. They were too far away for their faces to be seen clearly, but they could be no other than Jane and Harry. The duo sat at some sort of a table, and were relaxing under the glare of the artificial sun.

The astounded group made their way towards the outcropping of rock and grass that jutted up from the water's surface, realizing that the misty spray that had dusted their skin had slowly petered off into nothing. The artificial sun's warmth evaporated what mists remained, forming soft puffy clouds towards the room's ceiling. Waves happily lapped at the walkway as the group's weight pushed it ever so slightly downwards, and fish swam lazily by, just visible from above thanks to their bright colors. A swan took flight just past one of the fountains, lifting itself out of the water with an almost inaudible squawk.

The two individuals lazing about upon the island were soon recognized as the group progressed further; Harry and Jane had indeed arrived before Miranda, EDI, and Jacob. The wooden walkway made landfall, sinking into warm golden sand on a luxurious beach. Miranda stepped forward purposefully, brow furrowed. Jacob and EDI followed, more sedately, up a short grassy hill. At the top, a tall tree offered shade, while a picnic table lay out in the sun. Harry sat in a rather grand reclining chair, completely foreign to the environment. Jane lay on her back on a cushioned bench, basking in the sunlight. She sat up as the group approached, and gave a casual wave.

"Hey." Harry sat up, sitting straight on his recliner. "Take a seat, and start asking your questions. Since I probably can't answer every single one, please choose your best few, and I'll do my best to answer those."

The three newcomers found places to sit wherever space was available: Jacob sat calmly at another bench, across from Shepard, while EDI simply stood, and Miranda paced nervously.

"What is this place?" EDI asked first, moments after Harry spoke.  
"This is a proof-of-concept." Harry stated, before explaining. "I planned to create ships to terraform planets. This was where I did my preliminary testing."

"Terraforming?" Jacob asked, curious. "That would take hundreds or even thousands of years. I'm no expert, but-" He stopped himself. "Do you have some 'magic' way of terraforming a planet?"

"Yes, actually." Harry grinned nostalgically. "A mentor of mine was almost directly responsible for Mars."

"That explains it!" Miranda whispered, eyes wide. "So your terraforming technology actually worked?"

"Well it's not exactly technology, but yes, it certainly works." Harry informed. "I've been busy terraforming Rakhana and Tuchanka as of late."

"Tuchanka, the Krogan homeworld?" Jacob, asked, curious.

"Yeah." Harry confirmed. "It's been an irradiated wasteland for more than four thousand years, so I decided to change that. Besides, Krogan are badasses, and nobody deserves the Genophage."

"That's true, but are you accounting for their rapid rate of reproduction?" Miranda added,

"What do you mean?" Harry's eyebrows furrowed.

"Will they overpopulate the galaxy in a few hundred years?" Miranda said, restating her earlier question.

"No, definitely not." Harry replied.

"How are you so certain?" she questioned, incredulous.

"Do you even know how many Krogan are still alive?" Harry asked in reply. "Because I can tell you with certainty that there are fewer than two hundred-fifty million Krogan left in the _entire galaxy._ That's tiny, compared to humanity, and even smaller compared to the Asari. There are more Batarian slaves on Khar'shan alone than there are Krogan in the entire galaxy. I've run the numbers- with the genophage, they'll slowly populate Tuchanka, but not much else over the next two or three hundred years. Without the Genophage, they'd have a quickly growing population on Tuchanka by the turn of the 'd expand to another planet in a bit more than one hundred years, and another two a century after that."

"You know that- how, exactly?" Miranda queried sarcastically.

"Magic." Harry responded, tone equally sarcastic. "Besides, we're missing the whole 'Reapers' thing. The Krogan might get obliterated when the Reapers arrive, along with all the rest of us."

Everyone fidgeted a bit.

"What about Rakhana?" Jane changed the subject. "I'm not familiar with that planet."

"That's the Drell homeworld." Harry said. "God, I feel like a history professor now." He muttered, before telling more. "Their planet suffered through an incredibly destructive cycle of environmental abuse during their industrial era, leading up to a population crash of monstrous proportions in late twenty-twenty five. It was extraordinarily deadly, and billions perished of disease or famine. However, there are still almost two billion Drell surviving in shelters across the planet. In addition, any and all food available on Rakhana has the advantage of stronger biological defenses- fruit takes far longer to spoil, meat takes longer to rot, et cetera.

Unfortunately, mass overpopulation negated this bonus, to a degree. Sheer numbers overwhelmed Rakhana's depleted orchards and farms, leading the government to block travel out of population centers. When that piece of legislation was enacted, almost nine billion Drell found themselves stuck in their cities, and unable to find food.

Sure, their government brought food into the cities to feed the hungry, but they couldn't produce food as fast as the population needed it. That was the first warning sign of the population crash. There was a food panic in most major cities, and Drell of all classes tried to stockpile food in massive quantities. Unfortunately, that meant that the wealthiest individuals purchased up most of the available food, and hoarded it. Lavish parties in the wealthy districts marked the next few months, while the poor and poverty-stricken suffered from severe famine and starvation. That was when things went from bad to worse. The food panic expanded to a full-on famine. Everyone, even the wealthy struggled to get a meal, and government-sponsored rationing became a constant facet of life for the Drell. The next few years were devastating, as nearly two billion Drell perished. Although, there were a couple redeeming qualities to that time period.

For example, the Drell government had encountered the Illuminated Hanar Primacy, fresh into space. Translation took a while, as the Hanar communicate via bioluminescence, but the Drell managed it eventually. Imagine their shock when the first message from an alien race basically boiled down to 'Your planet's ecosystem is collapsing.' While that fact wasn't news to much of Rakhana's population, its confirmation was a death knell.

The Hanar did their best to evacuate Rakhana, but they were new to space-travel as a whole. They managed to evacuate less than half a million Drell, bringing them to the Hanar homeworld of Kahje. The Drell government, led by the wealthy, never really revealed to the masses that they were evacuating the rich and the upper one-percent, choosing instead to confiscate their fortunes.

Mostly from trillionaire industrialists, politicians, and business-owners, the ill-gotten gains of the evacuating Drell aristocracy went into the largest public works project ever implemented. Before the resource wars hit, millions of shelters were created, and slowly stocked with canned and preserved food. Wells were dug down to the water table, sadly far deeper below ground than on most planets. Filtration and sewage systems were the cause of the lion's share of the costs, eating up trillions of credits. The program was almost complete when petty squabbles over small food stockpiles led to an assortment of short and deadly wars. Although I guess it's all worked out in the end." Harry concluded his lecture with a wistful smile.

"How so?" Miranda asked. "How could that possibly classify as anything other than an absolute disaster?" She thought, stunned. Everyone knew the tragic story of the Drell homeworld, but not the exact numbers, nor the exact circumstances surrounding it. "How many shelters are still stable, after more than a century and a half?" She asked, painfully curious.

"Around two point five billion Drell still survive in shelters across the planet." Harry announced, nonchalant. "And, thanks to my efforts, Rakhana has rapidly changed back to its pristine, pre-industrial state. There's a new civilization growing from the ashes of the old one's remains." Harry said, a smug grin on his face. "I suppose I should explain that there's a bi-yearly 'Pilgrimage Season' for most Drell. Some go to Rakhana whenever they can, although others only visit once or twice in a lifetime. There has been a massive uproar on Kajhe over the last few years, as Drell have slowly been learning about their newly cleaned homeworld."

"That's incredible!" Miranda exclaimed, accent thicker than usual, before asking, "Is there a full government in place, or is it just roaming clans?"

"Yeah, there's a full government up and running. They based most of the details off of the Systems Alliance, actually." Harry replied. "They're planning on sending a delegation to the Council soon to get themselves an embassy."

"Yeah, that'll work." Miranda muttered, sarcasm filling her voice. "The Council's just going to direct them to the Hanar Illuminated Primacy, and try and make them into some sort of a colony. No way the Rakhana Drell will accept that. Even the Illuminated Primacy won't accept that. There's going to be some serious backlash from this, and it's aimed squarely at the Council."

"The Council will be tied up in the ramifications of this for months, or even _years._ " EDI theorized. "Many other issues are easily apparent, Harry. For example, there is a high probability of batarian slave raids, as Rakhana is unlikely to have a secure orbital defense grid."

"I've taken care of that." Harry's smile grew. "And the Council will be shitting themselves over the way I did it. Although some of the Rakhana Drell might also be scared, as well." Harry mused.

"What did you do this time, you crazy bastard?" Jane asked dangerously.

"I may have sent a couple dreadnoughts with full cruiser and frigate compliments into Rakhana's orbit, where they're broadcasting, " _This planet is under my protection. Hostile landings will be detected, and removed via deadly force."_ to all and sundry." Harry stated. "Let's see a slaver mess with that!"

"Would you like to explain your fleets to the rest of the audience?" Jane asked, pointing out Jacob, EDI, and Miranda.

"Sure." Harry confirmed. "Would you guys like the long story, or the short one?"  
"The long one." Was the unanimous reply.

Over the course of the next few hours, the wizard slowly explained the events that led up to the creation of his immense fleets- The tale of their humble beginnings as a shuttle full of mining equipment occupied the lion's share of the conversation.

Other information also made itself known, as Harry explained some details from magical history, including his confused arrival in the distant past, and subsequent conflict with the Reapers.

Doctor Chakwas and Joker arrived not long afterwards, awkwardly announcing that he'd set a course for Omega. The doctor quickly explained how EDI was busy managing any course corrections and similar minutiae, pacifying a worried Miranda.

Hours passed in a comfortable haze, as the fake sun lazily dropped lower down the distant walls that served as the sky. Its warm rays slowly changed to a deep orange shade, and brilliant rays of light glanced sparklingly off of the wispy clouds at the room's high ceiling, and the lake's waves.

Harry looked at his omni-tool to check the time, and then mumbled something about a meal. He stood stiffly, and grasped a small brown bag. The wizard deftly grabbed the bag's mouth, and pulled it open. The island's other temporary occupants didn't even bat an eye when the tiny bag's mouth expanded far beyond its normal size.

Reaching up to his arm into the bag, the wizard started pulling out plates, covered in foods of all sorts. After placing a few platters on the picnic table, he waved his arm dramatically above them. Instantly, aromatic odors wafted around the island; Miranda's stomach growled.

"I've got a dinner here, if anyone wants some food." Harry offered. "You certainly don't have to eat anything, but if you'd prefer MREs- well, that's your choice."

His food was quickly fallen upon by the group- they had been so engrossed in Harry's tales that they had forgotten the time. The only noise for many minutes was chewing, and the occasional contented sigh. _("Where the hell did you get actual beef steaks?!")_

As they ate, a false moon rose above them, shining bright blue streams of light. A few conjured candles lit the table, and a warm breeze made them flicker. A stunning green glow in the water indicated the presence of bioluminescent plant life somewhere in the great blue lake.

As the time passed, Harry pulled a few drinks from his bag, and passed the alcohol around. Still seated comfortably in his recliner, he leaned further back, and continued answering questions.

Eventually, a mildly inebriated Jacob spoke up, informing the group that Miranda had fallen asleep. She lay blissfully unconscious on a couch Harry had conjured a few hours ago, drooling slightly. There was a brief silence, as nobody had the courage to wake her. The wizard looked in her direction, mildly surprised, before calling a halt to the gathering.

"We can continue this in the morning." He murmured. "Let's all get a good rest."

The remaining conscious members of the group indicated their agreement, giving nodded heads, and mumbled acceptance. Harry levitated Miranda's couch, and beckoned towards the wooden walkway.

The dock creaked quietly as Harry and Jane made their way across it, followed by the levitating couch holding Miranda, as well as EDI, half-carrying the ship's intoxicated pilot. Jacob and Karin Chakwas followed at a much slower pace, looking over the walkway's edge.

Small glowing fish gamboled wildly, pinpricks of light against the glowing lake-floor, swimming in some divine symphony of color and vibrancy. The fountains had slowed their pounding roar as night had fallen, lowering to small vertical streams spewing water only ten or twenty feet into the air; water-particles no longer rode the wind from stories up in the sky. Instead, a citrus breeze curled across the lake, carrying the familiar scent of oranges - an exotic fruit rarely available outside of the Sol system. A few shooting stars flew across the false sky somehow projected onto the roof, and the artificial moon seemed to smile down on the party as they stepped onto the cobbled path, winding their way back up to the mess hall's door.

The door seemed to stand alone, unsupported. However, it still opened to reveal the familiar grey halls of the Normandy. The group stepped back into familiar territory almost regretfully, as the almost-stale taste of recycled air hit their nostrils.

Harry deposited Miranda's sleeping form on her own perfectly-made bed in the office it seemed she'd claimed. Then, trying to keep his eyes open, he walked back to the mess hall, and walked back through the portal.

Jane sat there, just through the doorway. She looked out at the lake, and at the fountains, now a lower level, more calm. She lay back on the grass of the hillside, so still that Harry might have thought she were asleep.

Hearing his footsteps, she looked up, and beckoned him over. Harry sat down by her side, remaining silent.

"This place is beautiful." Jane whispered, a few moments later. "Do you always take your date to the garden of Eden?"

"Not quite." Harry mumbled in reply. "Only the pretty ones."

"Why, Mister Potter," She sensualized the words, "Are you _flirting_ with me?"

"What if I am?" Harry teased.

"Then by all means, I intend to flirt back." she smiled brilliantly. "But not tonight. I intend to get some sleep." Jane leaned over, and gave the wizard a rather chaste kiss- on the lips.

Then she stood, and headed back inside the Normandy. Harry stayed for a few more moments, observing the peace and calm in his little corner of the universe.

Then, almost regretfully, he slowly removed the portal leading to his personal valley. Smiling for a multitude of reasons, he walked slowly towards the crew quarters, and lay down on a free bed.

In the background, he heard Joker stumbling his way to the pilot's chair, where he would likely fall asleep. (" _Leather seats! Seriously!_ ") The lift hummed softly as it traveled, bringing a passenger down an indeterminable number of floors. A pair of footsteps quietly tap-tap-tapped across the floor.

Harry's eyes drooped further and further, until he surrendered to the yawning blackness that slowly enveloped his consciousness.

…

Miranda twisted lightly, stretching out on her bed. She groaned, realizing that she must have slept through her omni-tool's alarms. Her eyes slowly opened, and reality poured into her mind. She sat up lightning-fast, as she remembered the events of the previous night.

Her sister was in danger.

Magic was real.

Those thoughts pounded themselves into her mind, even as she tried her best to dismiss them as bad dreams, or figments of her imagination. But her location disproved all of those. She had betrayed Cerberus, and stolen the SR2 Normandy from the incomplete Chronos Station.

Miranda slid her legs off of the side of the bed, and gathered the blankets around her shoulders. She grasped at her omni-tool and checked her messages, trying to delay her inevitable exodus from the warm expanse of her bed's cushions. However, Miranda's eyes widened in shock when they alighted on the sole message in her inbox.

 _Miranda Lawson-_

 _I am Operative Sphinx. You may be receiving many communications from me in the near future. You see, I led Cerberus' infiltration cell. I was responsible for the training of stealth operatives, as well as collection of mission-critical intelligence for Cerberus as a whole. And I know what you've done._

 _Somehow, you injured Kai Leng badly enough to put him in a critical state, and stole the Illusive Man's newest set of toys. And, you're getting away with it- for now, at least. He was furious when he discovered the deception, but he doesn't know anything solid about it anymore. I've muddled the waters enough to buy you some time. Sadly, my diversion was short-lived, and will be seen through quickly._

 _I'm not sure how much longer I have left to live._

 _I've set plans in motion to destabilize Cerberus- The Illusive Man's power will be disrupted for a short time. But he's planning something. I've only heard whispers and rumors, but it's something big. I'll tell you everything I know if you can get to me before Cerberus does._

 _Also: The Illusive Man lied about your sister's location. She was never on Omega, like you thought. Luckily for you, he hid her too well. Even he doesn't have an exact fix on her location like I do. It should take him a few days to trace her._

 _However, I'm on Omega, and I need help. Myself and a few team members are laying low in an out-of-the-way area, bet we've been discovered. Cerberus operatives are closing in on our position as I write this, and I'm not sure how much longer we can stay hidden._

 _In the meantime, I ordered Operative Rasa to end the Lazarus Project by stealing the only clone of Jane Shepard, and wiping all genetic data on file. She succeeded. Unfortunately for her, the Illusive Man's assassins found her on Illium. She's hidden for now, although she had reported that your clone was killed._

 _If you encounter Operative Rasa, I want you to kill her. You see, she lied to me about the clone - Somewhere on Illium, she is hiding a clone of Jane Shepard. For what purpose, I'm not sure, although I'm fairly certain Rasa will to try and steal Shepard's Spectre authorization._

 _I'm sending you this because you were one of the few members of the Lazarus cell with a conscience - at least before the cell was 'retired.' Now you're the only living member other than the clone. You seem to have some spark of compassion- you stopped all plans involving implanting a control chip from leaving the drawing board. Of course, all of your plans were useless, as Shepard was still alive, on a deep cover assignment for the Alliance. I couldn't figure out any more than that, unfortunately. Somebody's hiding information on Jane Shepard- somebody good. I suspect Liara T'soni: an up-and-coming information broker working out of Illium. You've worked with her before - when you failed your mission to recruit Shepard._

 _It seems everything is revolving around Illium, right now. I don't know anything other than rumors, but I think Cerberus may be trying to set up something big. A power play, like a coup or a major assassination. Either way, I've delayed it as long as possible._

 _Thanks to my distraction, and Operative Rasa's presence there, the Illusive Man is also convinced that the Normandy is docked somewhere on Illium, and is sending teams to look for it. You've got maybe one mission before he figures out that you've betrayed him, and taken his fancy new stealth cruiser._

 _And if both you_ _and your sister_ _manage to evade him after that?_

 _Good job._

 _By the way, Miranda, I looked through your omni-tool's browser history. You've read Shepard's Spectre Report on Reaper Indoctrination four times in the last day. Are you seeing the same evidence I am?_

 _If so, you'll know exactly why my situation is so desperate. If the Illusive Man is indoctrinated, then our chances of surviving the Reapers just got that much worse._

 _Good luck and safe travels, Miranda._

 _-Kasumi Goto - (Former) Cerberus Operative 'Sphinx'_

 _ **(A/N: Clearly I've changed Kasumi a bit. In this story, she's significantly more badass.)**_

 **I hope you all enjoyed! This chapter was a little light on the action. Just remember, something big is coming. Illium will never be the same. :)**


	11. A Layover on Omega

Miranda's mind spun as she tried to wrap her head around the message. She knew who this was. She had interacted with 'Sphinx' before. Of course, she had never known the woman's name. Up until now, Miranda hadn't even known 'Operative Sphinx' was female. In past dealings, they - _she_ \- had always used some sort of a vocal scrambler. Even through the scrambler, however, Miranda had been able to come to some form of a friendship with Sphinx- _Kasumi._ Not merely 'Sphinx' anymore. Miranda now had a name to go with the voice, and her friend Kasumi was asking for help.

Miranda couldn't be happier that she'd decided to visit Omega before investigating Illium. Since Joker had landed the ship in a docking bay on Omega late the previous night, she and her team would be able to begin the search for Kasumi's Cerberus defectors almost immediately.

…...

Garrus woke up to the sound of gunfire. Sharp and strident, the rapid staccato _phut-phut-phut_ of an M-12 Locust submachine gun echoed off of buildings and around rooftops. He rolled out of bed, and quickly got himself dressed and armored in a manner more similar to an automaton than a sentient being. His mandibles drooped into a turian scowl as he considered his situation. Gunfire was extremely common on Omega. He had gotten used to that long ago. So why had he woken up?

The turian grabbed his guns and his kinetic barrier generator, and peeked cautiously out the nearest window. The ozone crackle of bullets carried with the blowing breeze, and a distant smell of burning garbage reminded the turian of the Vorcha colony a few levels below his apartment. Cool air wafted through the room, and another trio of gunshots echoed off of the building on the opposite side of the street.

Finally, Garrus caught a flicker of movement, as a humanoid form dashed into view. As it turned the corner, the turian noticed something was off. The figure was moving as fast as it could, but was holding one arm to its chest, where brilliant red blood -( _It's human._ Garrus noted.) _-_ stained the being's clothing. Even from fifty or sixty meters away, Garrus could almost hear hoarse breathing and the clang of booted footsteps.

The figure stumbled, almost crashing into a tall salarian who was missing one of his cranial horns. The salarian quickly caught the human's shoulder, and lowered them to the ground slowly. The fallen human tried to get some leverage to lift itself up, but their boots found no purchase. The running figure stopped struggling for a moment as the salarian held them down, and began applying medi-gel. The cloaked and bleeding figure slumped as the pain-relief part of Sirta Corporation's most famous concoction took effect.

Then Garrus spotted another flicker of motion. A trio of white-armored humanoids had just sprinted around the corner, guns raised. They spotted the human and the salarian, and raised their weapons.

Squinting, Garrus recognized the logo of a human terrorist group. Surely they couldn't be up to any good here on Omega. Raising his own rifle, he took aim. He centered his scope's reticle on the lead human's head, and pulled the trigger as he exhaled.

The Cerberus trooper's head exploded in a bloody spray, as his two colleagues dived for cover. Unfortunately, they hadn't correctly divined the location of their assailant. Another shot passed through the sternum of one of the Cerberus soldiers, while the remaining trooper rushed for new cover. Garrus took that unit's arm off with one shot, before finishing the job with another bullet into the stunned hostile. Quickly, Garrus launched a remote-explosive mine towards the corner from which the hostiles had come. If there were any more Cerberus troops on the way, they'd find themselves vaporized as soon as they rounded the corner, and were detected by the device's friend/foe identifier.

Looking around for more hostiles, the salarian doctor spotted Garrus, who waved him over. Feet sliding on the slick floor, the doctor began to drag the human he'd been caring for to the relative safety of the turian's apartment. Garrus provided overwatch until he heard the sound of his front door hissing open. He made sure that no hostiles were arriving, before rushing down the stairs to the first floor to see what he could do for the injured human. The salarian doctor greeted him cheerfully, while pointing a bulky pistol in his direction.

"Many thanks for assistance." The salarian spoke, voice clipped and quick. "Patient would not have survived without medical attention, and I would have been unable to render such attention while under fire." The doctor considered for a moment, before looking at Garrus with a new light in his eyes. "Hmm." he muttered, lowering his weapon. "Blue armor, significant skill as a marksman, human 'angel' insignia. Conclusion: You are Archangel."

"That would be correct." the turian confirmed, before adding, "It seems I'm at a bit of a disadvantage. What's your name?"

"Mordin Solus." said the salarian, displaying an identity card from Sur'Kesh. "Primarily a medical professional, but skilled with all manner of weaponry." The salarian lowered his voice, explaining, "Served in STG."

"Huh." Garrus replied, before turning to the injured human. Looking closer, he noticed that her hood had fallen off, revealing a woman of some asian descent. "How's the patient?"

"Human female. Cerberus defector. Currently unconscious- should wake soon. Good chance of full recovery."

"That's good to hear, doctor. Do you have any idea why she was running?" Garrus asked, curious about the circumstances leading up to the shooting.

"Said it before. Human is a Cerberus defector- she appears to have a damaged omni-tool on her wrist loaded to the brim with heavily encrypted data. Along with an assortment of solid-state storage devices which are probably similarly protected. Will wake her up now." The salarian said, while applying a heavy dose of some sort of drug.

The Cerberus defector sat up abruptly, crawling backwards until she hit a wall. Her hands fumbled desperately at her belt, where she found a small holdout pistol.

"GUN!" Garrus yelled, while diving into cover. His talons found his own pistol at his thigh, and he watched in horror as the salarian made no move towards safety.

Aiming quickly, the defector's quivering arms pointed the weapon at Mordin, who simply laughed kindly.

"Gun is out of heatsinks. You hold a paperweight, not a weapon. Now be still. You're injured. A shot through the lung can be fatal to humans without proper medical attention. Medi-gel will do for now, but you'll need advanced medical treatment- Archangel, do you have medical facilities here?"  
"Yes, I do." Garrus replied, trying to comprehend the doctor's rapid vocal pace. "This way. On the third floor." He stood, carefully replacing his pistol over the mag-clamp on his thigh. The Cerberus defector dropped her holdout-pistol, and slumped bonelessly. She tried to stand, but found herself limping in pain. Garrus quickly slung one of her arms over his shoulder, and helped her up the stairs. She hissed in pain as the movement of her other arm aggravated her wound.

"Almost there." Garrus comforted. "One more flight of stairs, and we'll be in the med-center." The woman nodded silently as the pair made their way up the next flight of stairs. The salarian doctor followed behind them, humming a human tune Garrus vaguely remembered from a play he'd heard on the Citadel. He'd been on a protective detail for one of the actors. He vaguely recalled something about 'the very model of a scientist salarian.'

Soon, the woman was laying on her back on a gurney, while the salarian doctor began to treat the wound.

"Hmm. Good. Lung has not collapsed, though patient is experiencing hypoxia. Hmm. May go into shock. Ah! Wonderful. Your medical cabinet is excellent, Archangel. Almost rivals my clinic. Good, good! Even have appropriate human blood transfusion. Lucky, lucky. Yes. Patient will make a full recovery."

"That was fast." Garrus replied, halfway in awe of the sheer speed with which the doctor examined and treated his patient.

"Need more medigel- will hasten recovery." the salarian continued. Garrus silently passed him a cask of the lifesaving concoction. The doctor speedily applied a few bandages, and pronounced the patient to be well on the road to recovery. Then he pulled out a gun of his own, and immediately began questioning the human.

"Why did you leave Cerberus?" the salarian asked, tone suddenly dangerous.

"They wanted to eliminate a friend of mine." The woman replied weakly. Her hands trembled. "I betrayed them, and left with everyone who shared my ideals. They're coming after us, and I don't know how much longer my people have. I was supposed to be a distraction, but I don't know how well my plan worked. I don't…" The woman paused. "I don't know." She shook her head. "I sent a message to a friend- she'll come for me." an emotion flashed across her face, too fast to see. "Hopefully." she added, after a brief moment.

"Alright." Garrus replied. "How many people are you hiding?"

"Twenty-two." The woman replied. "Probably less by now."

"If you had to mount a rescue mission for them, where would you land?" Garrus probed further.

"They were planning to hide a few blocks away, by a defunct aircar-terminal somewhere due west." the woman pointed.

"I know where that is." Garrus replied. "I want you to send them a message. Tell them that a batarian in a black shuttle is coming to give them a lift." He quickly pushed a few buttons on his omni-tool, texting a few members of his squad.

"Hurry." The woman started typing her message. "Most members of my cell are good with guns, but we had to leave Cerberus in a hurry. I don't think my team has too much in the way of weapons or heatsinks."

A few moments later, a long black shuttle swooped down to a make-shift landing pad on the roof.

"Hey, Sensat!" Garrus yelled, trying to get the pilot's attention. A three-eyed batarian turned off the engines, and opened the shuttle's side door, revealing a shining mounted weapon on a swivel.

"Garrus!" The batarian cried, gleefully powering up the gun. Little red lights indicated that the safety was off. "I just finished installing this baby. Isn't she a beauty?"

"Sensat, we're in a bit of a hurry." Garrus chastised. "You can admire your handiwork later. We've got some friendlies taking fire by the transport terminal where we found that red sand ring a few months back."

"Alright. Hop in, and I'll get us there." the batarian replied, suddenly serious. Garrus ushered Mordin and the Cerberus defector on board, before telling Sensat to punch the throttle.

"I don't recall I ever got your name?" the turian asked the human.

"I'm Kasumi." the human mumbled, after a brief moment of consideration. Almost immediately after she spoke, Sensat announced over the PA system,

"Hey, Garrus!" the batarian's face was too close to the microphone, causing his voice to sputter and buzz. "I can see the terminal up ahead. There's definitely some sort of fight going on, so I'm going to open the door. You know how to use that beast of a gun, so why don't you hose down any hostiles you can see with flying death?"  
"You got it." Garrus replied, wincing at the harsh sound emanating from the speakers. The shuttle slowed, and the side panel slid open. Garrus instantly spotted Kasumi's team, hiding behind a few aircars in a punishingly open area. A few were trying to fire back, but their efforts clearly weren't successful. The only result of their efforts was a brief delay in the actions of their oncoming enemies. A small army of hostile troops were spreading out to flank them, all painted the same white and orange that Garrus had seen on the troops pursuing Kasumi.

Aiming quickly, Garrus unloaded a barrage of weapons-fire from his mounted auto-cannon. He stopped, re-aimed, and unloaded again. Rapid-fire bullets tore through the pitiful cover available to the hostile Cerberus forces, littering the ground with ferro-crete and plastic shards. And bodies.

Lots of bodies.

Radio static hissed through Kasumi's omni-tool as she hooked up to her team's communications network. Hopefully, desperately, she spoke into her omni-tool's microphone.

"Hey! This is Sphinx. What's your status?" Then, in a softer voice, "Is Keiji okay?"

"Kasumi!" a male voice shouted through her speakers. "Thank god you're alive. Where are you?" As soon as she heard the voice, she let out a massive sigh of relief, replying,

"I brought some help, Keiji. I took a hit, but I should be fine. We just made a pass."

"Where'd you get the shuttle?" the man's voice _-Keiji's voice-_ asked, almost awestruck. Then, in a more panicked tone, he shouted, "Gunship! Cerberus gunship incoming! Kasumi, get out of the air, now!"

Sensat confirmed the human's words a second later, as he punched the throttle. A deafening roar signalled the ignition of some sort of afterburner, and powerful g-forces slammed the shuttle's occupants into the back of their seats. Unfortunately for Garrus, he wasn't strapped into the vehicle. The turian held on for dear life as Sensat put the shuttle into a dive to avoid a pair of missiles.

"I can't get a clear shot!" Garrus cried, unable to line the mounted weapon up with the gunship.

"Hold on!" The batarian yelled, as Garrus did his best to keep himself inside the shuttle. Mordin somehow managed to grab Garrus by the arm, securing him in the vehicle.

"Please store all carry-on luggage underneath your seats, and keep your tray tables up. Fasten your seat-belts, and have a pleasant flight." The salarian mumbled with a grin. "Oh. And hold onto your cloaca."

"Are you joking?" Kasumi yelled, incredulous. "We're being chased by a gunship, and you think this is the best time to be a comedian?"

"Yes." the jovial doctor responded. "Increase of morale in combat situations can lead to victories over highly superior forces."

"Spirits!" Garrus cursed, as Sensat's desperate maneuvering scraped the shuttle against the side of a building. "Sensat!" He yelled. "That was too close!"

"By the pillars, Vakarian!" The pilot shouted. "It's a Mantis gunship! It's much more maneuverable than we are, and I can't exactly reach this shuttle's full speed while weaving between buildings! What do you want me to do?"

"Get us out of here!" Garrus yelled, half an order to the pilot, and half a prayer.

….

"Good morning, Miranda." Harry stretched out, yawning. "What's going on?"

"You have magic." Miranda spoke, ignoring the fact that the wizard had just awoken. "Do you have a way to locate somebody you've never met?"

"Yes, but it takes a while." Harry replied, confusion making itself evident through his tone. "Do you want to continue the magic question-and-answer session?"

"How long is a while?" Miranda interrupted. "How long would it take you to find somebody for me?"

"A few days, minimum, depending." Harry answered, even more baffled. "Are you looking for somebody?"

"-Yeah." the woman answered, mumbling, "The Illusive Man is going to go after my sister, when he figures out that I betrayed him."

"You've got a sister?" the wizard sat up. "And you want me to find her." The puzzled note had vanished from his voice.

"Yes." Miranda's eyes pleaded with him. "Or, I need you to find 'Kasumi Goto'." she added. "She's somewhere on Omega, and I have reason to believe that she knows where my sister may be located."

"The Cerberus spy, and master thief?" Harry's eyes lit up in recognition. "I should be able to find her. I'll be able to narrow her location down to a general area, but from there we'll have to follow the gunshots."

"Miranda?" EDI spoke, surprising the pair. "Cerberus comms activity indicates that there's an operation of some sort going on in the Kima district."

"You've been able to tap into Cerberus channels this entire time, and you haven't told us?" Miranda sighed.

"Yes. Was that an error?" EDI responded, sounding somewhat perplexed.

"Not really." Miranda replied. "Just... Assume we don't know about most of your abilities, okay?"

"Acknowledged, Captain Lawson." the AI replied. "Would you like me to send a transcript of current Cerberus chatter to your Omni-tool?"

"That would be wonderful, EDI. thank you." Miranda answered. Her omni-tool lit up, glowing orange. She opened it with a flick of her wrist, and skimmed through the document. A moment later, she spoke up, worried and excited.

"They've found her. They're sending a team after her group. We need to go _now._ " Miranda announced, pacing nervously.

"Wait- what do you mean?" Harry questioned. "They're sending a team after her group? Did she leave Cerberus, or something?"

"Yes, actually." Miranda confirmed. "I just saw an email from her. I think she might be the only one who knows where my sister could be." Harry stared at her for a few seconds, before letting out a deep laugh.

"Kasumi left Cerberus. Ha! That's a coup, for us. She's been his top infiltrator for half a decade. The Illusive Man used to send her on any mission that required somebody to get in and out without being detected."

"What about Kai Leng?" Miranda queried. "I thought The Illusive Man interacted with him on a more frequent basis?"

"Kai Leng was Harper's personal assassin." Harry explained, with a scowl. "Kasumi is able to infiltrate anything- hell, she nearly got into one of my facilities, once or twice. I had to intervene personally. Kai Leng, on the other hand, never went on a mission without killing somebody or something. You could practically follow Leng around Council space based off the political assassinations occurring at any given location."

"That's impressive." Miranda had a far-off look in her eyes.

"So where's her team?" Harry asked, rifling through his pockets. "Oh. One moment- I need to make a call. This will be fast." He whipped out his omni-tool, and pushed a few buttons. A dial tone was audible, ringing, ringing, ringing. "Damn. It's gone to messaging. Ah, well."

A sarcastic woman's voice announced, ' _I'm not able to answer your call. Obviously. Call later, or leave a message after the beep.'_ A high-pitched beep was heard.

"Hey, Aria." Harry began, drawling into the microphone. Miranda's head spun towards him, eyes wide. "I'm going to murder a few more ingrates fucking around on your rock. Have a nice day."

"Was that call to Aria T'loak?" Miranda demanded as soon as the wizard hung up.

"Yeah." Harry confirmed, before explaining, "She and I generally tell each other when we're doing anything near the other. It's professional courtesy."

"'Professional Courtesy' my ass!" Miranda cried. "You're on a first name basis with the 'Queen of Omega'! She's one of the most powerful people in the entire Terminus systems!"

"Let's get going." Harry changed the subject. " Jane's still asleep. EDI, when she wakes up, could you tell Jane that Miranda and I will be away for an hour or two?"

"Of course, Harry." the AI responded.

"I've got a gunship." the wizard told Miranda. "We'll use EDI to locate the hostile forces, and then blast them into tiny little pieces. Sound good?"

"Get going. I'll follow you." the ex-cerberus operative said.

….

"You call this a gunship?" Miranda's eyes were wide open in surprise, and her jaw had dropped.

"Yeah. It's a bit big, but it's worked well so far." Harry replied.

"For what?" the woman asked sarcastically, before joking, "Killing cruisers?"

"Not yet." the wizard deadpanned.

"It's fifty feet long!"

"So?"

….

"Spirits!" Garrus yelled again, as Sensat pulled another sharp turn.

"Pilot!" Mordin yelled, voice shrill and discordant. "Another gunship signature approaching fast. Recommend evasive maneuvers!"

"What?" Kasumi mumbled, quiet voice audible through Garrus' headset. "How did they get a second one here? They only brought a frigate. They shouldn't have an extra gunship bay."

"Garrus, the second gunship hasn't adjusted its course to follow us." The batarian pilot explained. "It's heading towards our pinned-down friendlies."

"Turn this shuttle around, then!" Kasumi yelled. She was clutching her chest, still in some pain. "That gunship will obliterate my people!"

"I can't do that, human." Sensast growled. "Not until I get away from this Mantis gunship chasing us!" Kasumi's omni-tool lit up, and she began speaking into her team's communications channel.

"Get to cover! You've got a gunship inbound!" She cried. "Damn it, Keiji! Get to cover!" Somebody on her channel keyed their microphone, but didn't speak. Hissing gunshots and explosions blasted harsh static through the speaker for a few moments more. Then there was silence.

Kasumi closed her eyes, and bowed her head.

...

"Harry, there's a Cerberus gunship in the air." the wizard's unofficial co-pilot announced.

"I know." Harry replied, before explaining. "I hit it with a remote mine a minute ago. As soon as it flies over a building that isn't a residence, its left engine is going to vaporize."

"Huh." there was a brief pause, before Miranda tentatively announced, "I think that's Kasumi's team down there." she pointed.

"Good eyes." Harry swung his gunship around, and made a low pass over what appeared to be an aircar terminal. After getting a good view of the beleaguered ex-Cerberus forces, Harry expertly twisted his gunship's controls around, executing another turn. Smiling gleefully, he pushed a button, and pulled a bright red trigger.

…

Keiji Okuda wasn't the smartest man in the world. He knew that, and had accepted it a long time ago. After all, you didn't need to be a natural-born genius to get a graybox. And instantly having an eidetic memory? That counted as genius. It was cheating, but it still counted.

Sure, grayboxes were dangerous. But any device implanted directly into your brain carried at least a small risk. To Keiji, however, the function of a graybox outweighed all of the downsides. He could store perfect copies of his memories for an indefinite time, and recall them at will. Classified documents, floor plans, passwords- anything. He only ever needed to see something once, before he could remember it with perfect clarity. But now something odd was going on. Something he'd never seen before, and had no memory of.

Keiji prided himself in his encyclopedic knowledge of guns, ships, shuttles, and gunships. It was the last one that was giving him trouble. He was watching an unknown gunship -possibly hostile - heading almost directly towards him. He'd be lying if he claimed to be unafraid. After all, for a gunship, the craft looked heavily armed.

The standard Mantis gunship was used by every species' military except the hanar, elcor, and volus, since the vehicle was versatile enough to serve as low-altitude close air support, a fighter, a high-altitude bomber, and even a shuttle capable of reaching orbit. However, it suffered from its variability. It was notorious for being a 'jack-of-all-trades' - It was extremely useful for many different parts of a combat theater. The salarian STG even had a few tooled up for stealth and reconnaissance.

However, the standard unmanned Alliance fighter could take out a Mantis three times out of five, and a stock kodiak shuttle could outrun even a heavily modified Mantis with relative ease.

But this wasn't a Mantis gunship, and that was exactly what was bothering the man. He didn't know of any type of gunship even remotely similar to the one flying towards him. Hell, there were only two types of 'gunship' still in use. The Mantis, and the old batarian HY-Plunderer. And even then, most of the old Plunderers were in museums. Keiji had only ever seen two in action. Clearly that spoke well of the ease with which the Mantis was modified and mass-produced, as he'd seen _hundreds_ of those.

This must be a completely new design of gunship, Keiji noted. Clinically, he began to categorize the ship's weapons. Of course, it was heading towards him quickly with possibly deadly intent, but he was screwed either way if it was hostile. Whether or not he looked at the firepower the new gunship was carrying would not change the fact that he'd get annihilated if it shot at him.

" _Get to cover! You've got a gunship inbound!"_ Keiji's omni-tool spat, as Kasumi yelled at him and the rest of his team. " _Damn it, Keiji! Get to cover!"_

He keyed the microphone, watched the gunship make a shallow dive, and a quick pass over the platform. But it didn't fire, he noted. Surely the pilot had seen him and his group? Keiji's heart leapt. Maybe he'd be surviving this, if the pilot was a friend.

Unfortunately, that wasn't likely. Most mercenaries would be happy to turn Keiji and his team over to Cerberus for their new bounty. The Illusive man had decided to leave him a bit of a going-away present. Half a million credits for Keiji Okuda or Kasumi Goto- wanted: Dead, not alive.

As Keiji huddled in his cover, he watched the pilot twist his craft around and fly back towards him for another pass. This time, however, the massive autocannon on the gunship's underside _roared_ to life, rattling and shaking the transit platform. The man was elated when he noticed that the weapon was targeting hostile forces, rather than him and his team.

Many of the advancing Cerberus troops were caught in the veritable wall of deadly hypersonic particles, leading to the immediate onset of a severe case of 'highly-perforated-organs-splattered-across-the-floor-itis.' The rest, if they were capable, began a 'Tactical Retreat'.

In other words, they ran like sissies.

….

Kasumi's smile could have split the heavens when Keiji's voice buzzed through her omni-tool's speakers.

" _Hey, beautiful. I think we're in the clear, now. That gunship was friendly, and it just cleared off the transit platform. It looks like the Cerberus infantry's clearing out."_

"Yes!" Kasumi pumped her fist, then winced in pain as it aggravated her lung wound. Garrus's eyes widened as a massive burst of shuddering, explosive noise resounded through the shuttle.

"Sensat, what happened?" he asked, worried.

"The Mantis gunship chasing us just blew up." The baffled batarian replied after a few moments. "I've no idea how. It just fell out of the sky, and crashed into the old arms plant in the Gozu district. And that new gunship your salarian friend was worried about just blasted the rest of those hostile cerberus troops into oblivion. I've designated it as friendly on our tac-net. Don't want our explosives expert trying to take it out, if he gets a clear shot."

"Wonderful. Let's head back to the transit platform." Garrus ordered. "Kasumi, your team will have at least a few injuries after that firefight, and we've got medical supplies on board."

"Ah. More patients. Can assist." Mordin spoke up.

"I may have missed your name." Kasumi said, half a statement, and half a question. "So could you tell me who you are, again, and why I should trust you?"

"Valid question." The salarian replied, thinking out loud. "Name is Mordin Solus. Doctor, trained field medic, former member of salarian STG. Black-ops. Can help." Mordin paused, before announcing, "Also run Omega clinic in Gozu district."

"Alright. Looks like you're a bit overqualified, doctor. That's good." Kasumi wheezed. "My people will need as much help as they can get."

...

Sensat flew the shuttle back towards the defunct public aircar hub, carefully watching for any more enemies. Seeing nothing, he took the shuttle in for a landing near Kasumi's ex-cerberus forces. The engines whined as he touched down, watched by the relieved faces of a small group of white-and-orange-clad humans. Kasumi had apparently radioed ahead that she would be arriving with some medical help, and it seemed that everyone in need of medical attention had been gathered into one area for ease of access. Mordin immediately made his way towards the group of injured humans, brandishing a few casks of medi-gel and a suitcase full of bottles of pills. Kasumi simply stood, looking for one particular figure. A few moments later, her face and eyes lit up like miniature suns as she found her quarry.

"Keiji!" She shouted, just as loud as she could with her injured lung. "Over here!" She waved her right arm in an enthusiastic manner. A tall man in the standard Cerberus uniform jogged her way, concern writing itself across his face.  
"Kasumi! You said you'd been hit. What happened?" Keiji questioned, before stopping in front of her. " Will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine in a few hours." the woman announced, pointing out the bandage and the medi-gel on her armor. "A bullet clipped my omni-tool, so I couldn't use any of my tech." she said, explaining the circumstances that had led to her gunshot. "My shields died, and somebody fried the generator with an overload. Even my emergency batteries got blasted, so I was out of luck."

"How'd you survive without any of your gear?" the man asked. His tone was simultaneously worried that she'd been shot, and elated that she'd survived.

"I almost got away, but one of them got a lucky hit with a Mattock. After that, they nearly caught up to me, until I ran into the salarian doctor over there." She pointed at Mordin. "He stopped me, and administered some medi-gel. Unfortunately, that was when the bastards rounded the corner." she stopped, and looked for Garrus. He caught her eye, and nodded. "Garrus - the turian who arrived with me - took them out with a sniper rifle from a few hundred feet. Absolutely incredible. I don't think he ever missed." Keiji looked at the turian with a newfound sense of respect. "Then he brought Mordin and I into his apartment, where he had some impressive medical equipment, along with a staggering number of heat-sinks. He got me fixed up, and took us up to the roof. Not much later, this shuttle arrived." Kasumi smiled weakly, and gave her lover a hug. "I'm glad you're ok." She mumbled into Keiji's chest.

"We'll make it out of this alive, Kasumi. Just you wait." Keiji mumbled, as the couple sat in the doorway of Sensat's shuttle.

Garrus surveyed the scene, looking over the relieved ex-cerberus intelligence agents. Some were crying, some were relaxing, and some were just numb. But it seemed that they would all make a full recovery. Except, of course, for the corpses.

Four of the original twenty-two had been killed. Three from gunfire, while the last casualty had bled out from a missing arm. Mordin had closed the man's eyes, and muttered an old human prayer. A few of the Cerberus defectors had been surprised at that.

Garrus knew this was a success, but there was still one thing that weighed heavy on his mind.

Where had the second gunship gone, and who had ordered it to help these people?

Almost as soon as he had thought of it, the friendly gunship flew slowly into view. Instantly, all of the turian's worries disappeared. He even let out a chuckling laugh, surprising those around him. A few of the intelligence agents followed his gaze, faces thoughtful. A few of them looked caught between resigned confusion and terror. Garrus wondered why they would be scared of a vehicle that had just saved their lives. Perhaps humans were just naturally insane? The turian certainly had enough evidence to back that up.

Garrus slowly made his way towards Kasumi- the only one likely to give him an answer to the question that needed asking. He approached, still chuckling, and sat down beside Keiji.

"So how did you get Harry Potter to back you up?" He asked, mandibles splayed in a turian smile.

"Wh-what?" The human woman stuttered. "He's here?"

"That's his gunship." Garrus pointed noncommittally towards the vehicle that had saved the ex-Cerberus excursion. "I just can't figure out why he'd get you and your people out of a bind like this."

As they spoke, the long gunship slowly landed, and a small ramp descended from the rear. A few seconds later, a pair of tapping footsteps made their way around the craft, and the vehicle's two occupants strode into view.

"Harry!" Garrus called, gladly striding over to the wizard. "It feels as if it's been years since I saw you last. Who's the bird?"

"My name is Miranda, _Mister_ Vakarian." The woman announced. "And we came to find a Cerberus defector by the name of Kasumi Goto. Would you happen to know where she may be?" In response, Garrus pointed her out, and grabbed Harry's shoulder. Miranda walked forwards, leaving the human and the turian alone. She was extremely eager to find out what Kasumi knew about her sister.

"Alright, Harry." the turian began. "On a more serious note, I'd like you to explain the cryptic little message you sent a few days ago."

"Ah." Harry murmured.

"'Ah,' indeed." Garrus whispered. "You sent every member of the former crew of the Normandy a message that only said, 'Jane is alive'. Why?"

"Because she _is_ alive." the wizard replied. "And I can prove it. She's on the ship I came here on."

"Look, Harry." The turian finally hissed, after a long pause. "You're repressing your emotions, and ignoring the truth. Jane _died_. You're the only one of us able to do magic. Unless you somehow resurrected her-"

"That's exactly what I did, Garrus." the wizard whispered. "I- -received information that led me to believe that it would be safe to bring her back, so I did."

"Spirits, Harry. You 'received information.' Who could possibly say that resurrectionis fine, that it's the right thing to do? Isn't that, - I don't know, I think the human word is necromancy? In turian fiction, bringing people back to life is usually evil. Hell, it's the same with every race. Zombie movies have existed for thousands of years. So I'm going to go off of what I know, and assume that the sort of stuff that raises corpses doesn't play nice. So who did you 'receive intelligence' from?"

There was a frozen pause, a moment in time, before Harry responded. Garrus leaned in, almost unconsciously.

"Death." the wizard said softly, and put one finger to Garrus' temple. "I spoke with Death."

And then there were memories blasting through the turian's brain, fast and bright and _impossible_. Words flew by in a blur, and suddenly Garrus had a memory- _had been present-_ in the mess hall, when Harry had turned it into a valley.

- _But he'd been on Omega the whole time, light-years away. He couldn't be remembering that! It hadn't happened!-_

And then Garrus remembered a few words about memory, and about how wizards could share memories, and copy them, and destroy them. He remembered when Harry had first revealed his magic to the crew, back on the original Normandy-

- _The original Normandy? He'd never been on the new- Oh. There was a new Normandy.-_

Garrus knew this with a certainty he could not shake. He had walked its halls, and slept in its crew quarters, and he had been aboard the ship when it was stolen from a Cerberus base.

 _-But he hadn't. He'd also been on Omega, tossing and turning in a deep cushioned bed._ -

And he remembered Harry explaining himself to Jane and Liara, aboard a strange ship powered by the lightning storms of Hagalaz.

 _-Harry is the Shadow Broker.-_ Garrus realized.

Now, he also recognized the insignia on the human's armor. The 'Mortis Solutions' logo was painted clearly on the wizard's chestplate. Why hadn't he noticed it sooner?

 _-Mortis Solutions is run by the Shadow Broker. That explains so much…-_

"Spirits!" The turian whispered in awe, as he came back to himself. A few of the ex-cerberus intelligence agents looked at him oddly, but there was otherwise no reaction. "Spirits." he mumbled again. Harry simply looked at the turian with a morose tint in his eyes.

"I had to show you, Garrus. That was just the fastest way." The wizard explained. "Besides, I don't have to go over everything with you. It makes it all that much easier."

"So you're traipsing around the galaxy with the former second-in-command of Cerberus, her boyfriend Jacob, our favorite doctor, and Shepard?" Garrus questioned, before muttering, "I predict some serious fireworks. And good luck with keeping all the air inside the ship this time."

"Thanks, I guess?" Harry replied tentatively, before adding, "Hey, we'd all be delighted to have you aboard, Garrus. If you'd like to come along, feel free." The turian considered for a few seconds, but shook his head.

"I'd love to join you guys, but I just can't go." He said, and muttered, "Not right now."

"Why not?" Harry queried in a puzzled voice.

"My goal here is to take a stand where I can actually go after the people who are behind the galaxy's criminal empires and narcotics rings." the turian explained. "Most of, if not all, of the illegal weapons and drugs I've confiscated as a cop on the Citadel came from Omega. And I've already made massive progress. My squad and and I have crippled the majority of all red sand exports off Omega, and devastated the leadership of the few most influential cartels in the Terminus Systems. The only real thing keeping me here is the mercenary organizations."

"I understand where you're coming from." Harry agreed. "Bloody gang wars have been springing up between Omega's mercenary groups for the last thousand years."

"It's mostly the standard mercenary triumvirate. The Blue Suns, Eclipse, and the Blood Pack. The Omega branch of Eclipse is in charge of almost thirty percent of all smuggling on and off this asteroid, including slaves and narcotics. Wait, scratch that- they're only really responsible for slaves and narcotics. Literally everything else is just carried around freely. The Blue Suns are in charge of all the slaves not carried by Eclipse, and are also running a protection racket that covers most of this rock. They steal from the poor, and give Aria some of their winnings." The turian became thoughtful for a second, and added, "Aria has _always_ wanted a higher percentage. Much higher. She's in control of Omega, after all."

"I might have a solution for you, Harry." Miranda butted into the conversation. "Since you're apparently on first-name terms with Aria, you could try and convince her to engage the Suns, and then take over the protection racket herself." Garrus froze, staring at Miranda. Then he turned towards Harry with a wary expression on his face.

"Spirits, Harry." the turian muttered. "Congratulations. You're know one the most dangerous people in the galaxy on a personal level. Good job."

"It's just professional courtesy!" Harry protested. "We walk in some of the same circles, and have operatives doing lots of the same things. Besides," the wizard, explained, "Aria was the first alien I met, after my… unorthodox, shall we say, arrival in this space and time. And I saved her life a few times." After that last sentence, Garrus paused. Thoughts rushed through his head, as he tried to reconcile the Harry he knew, the human who had laughed with his father over drinks on the Presidium, with the image of the 'Shadow Broker'- a near-legendary information merchant with very few scruples, and a notorious hatred of slavery. And then he tried to add to the mix the mystery surrounding 'Mortis Solutions'- an even more exotic group, whose history and reputation (composed purely of speculation and rumor) rivaled the ancient salarian 'League of One' in its sheer audacity and intrigue.

"You're an odd one, Harry." he finally muttered, garnering a mumbled affirmative from a nearby Miranda, and a grin from the wizard to whom he referred. "And I think even you'd be hard-pressed to resolve this situation in a day. See, there's also the Blood Pack, who are running a few recruitment stations on the outer areas of Omega, in the poorer districts. They're busy kidnapping vorcha and using them as cannon fodder, so they've got what amounts to a standing army here on Omega. Of course, they'd be stupid to try anything even distantly resembling a coup, but the threat is still there."

"Garrus?" Harry asked, looking supremely pleased with himself, and a little embarrassed. "I took care of the Omega chapter of the Blue Suns just a day or two ago."

"Of course you did." Garrus splayed his mandibles in a turian grin. "That's one down, and two to go. Did you see the future, or something?"

"Er, no, not really." Harry evaded. A moment later, he bowed his head, and admitted, "Well, I just needed to get rid of a shuttle. I couldn't risk it being tracked after I stole it, so I unloaded the cargo, and rammed it into the combined warehouse-factory that the Suns were using as a base. I teleported out of the craft before it hit, allowing me to use it as a glorified mass driver. However, I may have misjudged how powerful the vehicle's engine was, and since I pushed the throttle as far as it could go, the shuttle actually hit the abandoned warehouse with enough power to completely collapse the facility."

"Yeah, I think that would-" Garrus froze. "What kind of a shuttle was it?" he asked, warily. The wizard gazed back, surprised at the turian's sudden mood swing. "It was a standard cargo shuttle, wasn't it." the alien stated. "It was full of slaves, and a ship was about to ram the station."

"You were the sniper." Harry breathed, eyes lighting up like eezo cores. Miranda looked on in confusion as Garrus continued.

"I _knew_ that was you in that landing bay." Garrus' mandibles twitched as he spoke. "You were the only person I've ever seen performing - well, magic." Harry acquiesced, nodding.

"About two days ago just before Shepard woke up, I went to blow off some steam by interrupting a slave auction. However, I wasn't very well informed of the situation surrounding the transaction." The wizard explained, scowling. "So I was caught unaware when the Collectors showed up to buy whatever or whoever the Suns had rounded up, and decided that they'd be able to take me out by simply ramming the platform. And while my little mission went belly-up at a few hundred miles an hour, Garrus here saved me from getting heavily perforated. He bought me time enough to steal a slave shuttle and get it airborne before a Collector ship rammed into the landing bay I'd been playing around in." Miranda's eyes widened.

"That certainly explains why a collector frigate crashed - Cerberus thought it had crashed, at least - into Omega." she mumbled. "And why a few hundred mercenaries went up in smoke two days ago."

"What you're not mentioning is that you were having a blast luring that shuttle's guards into the nearest alley and slitting their throats." Garrus added, still recalling the event in question. Harry winced. "You only started using your _-special skills-_ " the turian air-quoted, referring to magic, "when you realized that the Collectors were going to ram into the station."

"That's when I grabbed the shuttle and high-tailed it, yeah." the wizard confirmed. "I took a few hits while escaping, but I… recovered soon enough." he continued, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, not being entirely truthful. Miranda listened in agitated concern.

"So the Blue Suns are out of commision, at least on Omega, after your stunt with the shuttle." Garrus thought for a moment. "Tarak, the leader of the Suns on Omega, has been silent since you ditched that shuttle. I'll assume that he was killed when you collapsed the warehouse-factory above his head. Eclipse and the Blood Pack will still run rampant in the new power-vacuum, so we need to deal with them soon, if not now. If we wait too long, we'll just have uncontrolled gang warfare on our hands." The turian stated, drawing the conversation back to it's original starting point. "I've got a bit of a plan to deal with the Blood Pack, but I've got nothing for Eclipse."

"Alright," Harry spoke, eyes far off, and thoughts even further. "I haven't looked at any recent reports from Omega, so you'll have to refresh my memory on the leaders of the two remaining mercenary groups."

"Understood." Garrus said, and began a brief overview of the situation. Quickly, he pulled up a picture on his omni-tool. "This is Jaroth, the Eclipse commander on Omega. He's extremely paranoid, as I killed his brother in a routine raid on the contaminated narcotics that Eclipse is smuggling off-station." The turian paused here, and showed another picture. It featured the salarian, Jaroth, in some heavy tech-armor. The glowing pieces of the protective matrix nearly encased him, emitting light every which way.

"As you can see," Garrus chuffed, the turian equivalent of a laugh. "Jaroth wears a massive amount of tech armor. Unfortunately, that much will protect against a round from even the heaviest sniper rifles I own. Now maybe if I could get myself an M-98 Widow…" the turian's voice petered out as he fantasized about such a weapon. The Widow was an anti-materiel rifle designed for disabling heavy tanks, so it would, of course, be welcomed in his arsenal. After all, overkill is the best type of kill.

"Moving on." Garrus continued, breaking from his reverie, "Garm, the leader of all Blood Pack forces on Omega, will be exposed in a few hours. He's got a constant habit of walking his varren, of all things. The vicious fish-dogs seem to love him. So tonight at eight, just after the beginning of the asteroid's artificial night-cycle, I plan to situate myself on a nearby building with a rocket launcher and a few rifles with infra-red scopes. Me and my team should be able to drop one solitary krogan and a few varren with ease."

"That should work," Miranda tentatively interrupted. "But we're on a time-sensitive mission. There's an objective on Illium that we need to pick up soon. We can delay briefly, but we'll be on the move soon. And I think we'll need as much help as we can get."

"I'm sorry, Miss Lawson." Garrus shook his head. "I simply can't join you unless we can also remove Eclipse from power here. If they were left alone, even for a few days, they could attain such a foothold here as to be unassailable. I simply can't let that happen."

"Sorry. Uh, give me a moment, please?" Harry announced, after his omni-tool began ringing, signalling that he was receiving a call. "I should probably take this." he mumbled, but still didn't pick up.

"Is Aria calling you back?" Garrus asked, somewhat frustrated. He wasn't a fan of criminals getting away scot-free, and Aria T'loak, ruler of Omega, was possibly one of the most consummate criminals alive. At the head of a massive criminal syndicate that kept Omega running, as well as supplying the vast majority of the Terminus systems with Eezo, she was involved with many unsavory individuals who owed her favors. Besides, Garrus had no doubt that Aria had enough blackmail material to start a war.

"Yes, actually." the wizard replied. "She's returning my earlier call."

"That's just great." The turian muttered.

...

"Hello?"

" _Hello, Harry."_ Aria's voice, angry and sharp, hissed through the speakers in Harry's helmet.

"Hi Aria." the wizard said, in an overly amused tone. "Who shot your pet Varren?"

" _What the hell are you playing at?"_ the asari snarled. " _You've almost completely destroyed the Blue Suns presence on Omega. Eclipse and the Blood Pack will tear my station to pieces trying to gobble up the scraps the Suns left behind."_

"Look, Aria. I'm sorry about that." Harry began, trying to pacify the angry blue woman. "I wasn't thinking clearly, and I'm working to fix the issue. So far, I've got a friend working on taking down Garm. I was hoping that you'd be able to spare a team to deal with Jaroth."

" _And why on Thessia would I want to do that?"_ the asari spat, frustration still shining through her tone of voice, although less potent than before. " _I'm not exactly in favor of disrupting the people on my station even more than they already will be."_

"Because you'd be able to get this place running in a much more orderly fashion." The voice on the other side of Harry's omni-tool sniggered. "Now hear me out, Aria. If you declared martial law here, you'd be able to tax everything and anything that arrived or departed Omega. With almost as many people living here as there are on the Citadel, even a miniscule tax would make you obscenely rich."

" _You mean, 'even more obscenely rich'?"_ Aria's voice played over the wizard's omni-tool. There was now no trace of anger left in her demeanor, merely contemplative thought. " _I guess I can spare a few snipers. For a cost."_ The asari's voice rang out. Harry sighed.

"The same price as always, then?" He asked, resigned.

" _Of course."_ Aria replied, voice sweet.

"Harry?" Garrus spoke up as soon as the wizard's call had finished. "What exactly do you mean by 'the same price as always'?" The wizard in question stared for a second, before shrugging his shoulders. A few seconds later, he replied.

"Massages." He mumbled helplessly. "Whenever I need something from her, she makes me pay in massages."

"What?" Miranda queried, half-hoping that she'd heard him wrong. "So you just paid for a hit on the regional leader of a galactic organization of mercenaries, smugglers, and murderers using _massages_ as _currency?_ "

"Yes. Exactly." Harry shrugged again. "Apparently she thinks I'm the best masseuse in the galaxy." He shivered. "Anyway, This time tomorrow, Aria will probably have complete control of the station. Certainly, Jaroth will be dead by then. When Aria puts her mind to something, there is very little anyone can do to stop her." Garrus remained silent at that, and changed the topic.

"Harry, I'll take my team and get ready to take out Garm." The turian announced. "Then I'll see if any of them want to come along with me to help with whatever crazy mess you've gotten yourself into this time."

"Would appreciate an invitation. Willing to come along." Spoke Mordin, the salarian doctor.

"You'd abandon your clinic for this?" Miranda asked, curious. "Some random stranger's desperate mission?"

"Of course." replied the salarian. "Clinic's getting boring. Need drive provided by mission. Can't have my brain slow down. Must keep active." He paused, eyes distant. "Also have assistant. Can give him control of clinic."

Miranda considered briefly, before accepting his aid. After a quick handshake, she turned towards Harry. However, standing between them stood Kasumi and Keiji.

"Miranda, I can't thank you enough for saving my life, and the lives of my team." the asian woman spoke softly. "But I need to ask another favor."

"Sure." Miranda replied. "Although I may not be able to get to it immediately."

"That shouldn't be a problem." stated Keiji. "You see, we want to come along. We've all got a bone to pick with Cerberus. Our friends, colleagues… We've only recently figured out that retirement means death, to the Illusive Man. And we've all had friends retire, or finish a project and try to leave Cerberus. It's come as quite a shock for us to find that they're all gone."

"Welcome aboard, Sphinx, -I mean, Kasumi. That's going to take some getting used to." A sad but genuine smile graced Miranda's face.

…

"There's Garm. Looks like our intel was right." Garrus said, mandibles flaring into a turian grin. "You'd think that the leader of every Blood Pack mercenary on Omega would be more careful. Walking a bunch of rabid varren every night, really..." The turian mumbled. He made a few minute adjustments to his rifle, keeping the krogan in the center of his sights. "Meirin-" he spoke into his helmet's microphone, "Overload on my mark."

"Understood." replied the salarian, wielding a glowing omni-tool in one hand, and a comically large rocket launcher in the other.

"Mark." Garrus called, and waited a moment. Meirin's overload dart traveled for about half a second after it was fired from the salarian's omni-tool, before it hit and disabled the krogan's kinetic shielding in a crackling jolt of electricity. A shot rang out, as Garrus' bullet took Garm's leg off at the thigh.

As one, the three varren -large, vicious fish-dog-creatures,- brought their noses up, detecting the scent of blood. They turned slowly towards the krogan, bleeding yellow and orange fluids onto the ferro-crete.

Garm, the Blood Pack commander, let out a strangely high-pitched scream. It was all he was capable of before the three varren fell upon him like sharks in a feeding frenzy. Garrus and Meirin watched in shocked satisfaction.

"I guess we won't be needing to waste any ammunition for this rocket launcher." the salarian mumbled, and a few moments later, added, "That's one hell of a way to die. Death by pet varren."

…

"Target in sights." The mercenary spoke into his radio.

"Good." came the reply over his earpiece. "Take the shot whenever you're ready."

A few seconds passed, before the assassin's target sat down at a table. In a pensive mood, the salarian leaned back in his chair- _**Boom!**_ And his head exploded in a shower of green blood. The assassin smiled. Aria's troops would be beating down the door of the Eclipse stronghold in moments.

The mercenary group known as 'Eclipse' had just lost their grip on Omega.

...


	12. Bed, Breakfast, and a Collector Attack

Two or three hours later, after tending to the wounds sustained by Kasumi's team during their escape from Cerberus, Harry's omni-tool rang. The wizard checked the caller-ID, and stood up in the middle of Kasumi's briefing on Cerberus. Miranda and Liara sent a questioning gaze his way, to which he simply apologized.

"I'm sorry. Aria's calling me again. I've got to take this call."

…

"Aria." the wizard's voice stated courteously.

"Harry." came the reply. "I'm beginning the first few stages of your crackpot plan. So far, all is well." The asari stopped to take a breath. She spoke up again a few seconds later, after collecting her thoughts. "Most of my advisors are collectively losing their shit, but I'm heartened by the fact that they can't point out a single faction - on Omega, at least - with enough manpower and weaponry to seriously threaten my takeover."

"Good." Harry returned. "It's always fun to keep your analysts on their toes."

"Huh." Aria snorted. "More like I'm keeping them on the edges of their seats." the asari practically spewed sarcasm. "I've got a batarian here who's been nearly comatose ever since I announced my intention to outlaw slavery. He said something about how that would cause the Batarian Hegemony to collapse in about two months, before he fainted. He's been alternating between unconsciousness and staring off into the distance for the last hour and a half."

"Well," Harry sighed. "If anyone ever deserved their government imploding in on itself, the batarians- at least the ones in power- certainly do. I'll happily raise a few glasses and hope for an old-earth French Revolution-style takeover."

"I've read some of your human history." Aria replied, grinning. "It'll either end that way, with the proletariat rising up against the bourgeoisie, or we'll see some good old communism. I know a few salarian philosophers who would wind up living in a state of continuous bliss if they could get to see that particular social experiment play out."

"Huh." Harry's eyebrows rose. "You do know that I happen to have some motives other than securing the orgasmic existence of a few overweight frogs on Sur'Kesh."

"Yes." the asari replied, unrepentant. "But it would still make for some great television."

"You're right." Harry smiled. "But I've got to cut this short. I'm a bit busy."

"You're 'a bit busy'?" Aria laughed. "I'm in the middle of driving a shit-ton of mercenaries off of my asteroid. I'm communicating with you at the same time as three of my generals. Unleashing you and all your trigger-happy friends on the galaxy is making me anxious enough, without all the mercenaries and assassins trying to shoot me. Just get going already, before I stop dreaming of the massive profit I'll be bringing in once I've got complete control of Omega."

"Good luck." Harry responded. "I'll call you back some other time."

"You too." the pirate queen of Omega replied. "Try not to die." she said, in a rare moment of tenderness, before ruining the moment by adding, with a laugh, "Again."

"Spirits, Harry." Garrus cursed. "So you've just removed the middlemen!" The turian's clawed hands curled into fists. "Aria and her syndicate will still be just as greedy as they've always been. The station will be no better off than it started!" He and the rest of the crew had been eavesdropping- unintentionally, as Harry had simply taken the call in the middle of a meeting- but eavesdropping all the same.

"Garrus, Omega will actually have order, now." Harry explained. "No longer will there be constant gang warfare, or slavery. Aria plans to put laws in place to prevent that. The second law on Omega in three hundred years- and it's a ban on murder. And she's got more on the way. We've brainstormed about this, in past. Aria knows what she's doing."

"I hope so." Garrus muttered. "I certainly hope so."

"Then I'll adjourn to the laboratory." added Meirin, the only member of Garrus' team willing and able to leave Omega with him. The rest had families, or jobs, or a need for revenge. "Must research socio-political effects of Aria's coup on Omega."

"I plan to join you." Mordin interrupted. "Will enjoy conversation with a being of similar intellectual prowess." the salarian said to Meirin. Chatting happily, the only two salarians aboard the Normandy walked off towards the research lab.

"I think we've just been insulted." Kasumi mumbled, before continuing her briefing on Cerberus.

…

"Harry?" Jane blearily stumbled out of the elevator and onto the Crew Deck, for breakfast. Well, she hoped there was breakfast. She hadn't had time to check the mess hall's refrigerator after the previous night's revelations.

Besides, there really wasn't any way to get there, as the entire place had been magically transformed into a massive magical valley.

Jane looked out in confusion at the mess hall, where a familiar asari, a pair of salarians, a turian, and a few humans, Harry included, sat around a table with brimming plates of breakfast food. Excited chatter filled the air, as the entire group conversed in an animated fashion. A delicious aroma of waffles and bacon wafted through the air. Jane's stomach grumbled loudly, betraying her hunger to anyone within a few feet of her.

As she approached Harry and the aliens surrounding him, she recognized a friend.

"Garrus?" she asked in disbelief, before turning her attention towards the resident wizard. "Harry, this isn't exactly a cruise ship. When did we manage to pick up a member of our old squad from the original Normandy?" She paused. "And why wasn't I informed that we left Omega?"

"You said you were tired after last night's activity." Harry grinned. "I decided to let you sleep." Jane blushed.

"I definitely learned a lot, but I was more worried about the part where you went and got into trouble on the most lawless of all the rocks in the Terminus Systems." Jane responded.

"Hey!" Harry complained, amidst laughter from Garrus and Liara. "How do you know I 'got into trouble'? For all you know, I had a perfectly peaceful trip to Omega, where I had a few drinks and bought some supplies." the wizard snarked.

"Not in a million years." Jane mumbled, sarcasm oozing from her voice. "You'd be able to find trouble in a soundless padded box."

"She's right." Liara added with a chuckle. "Chaos seems to follow you wherever you go."

"Alright." Harry conceded, with a sheepish smile adorning his face. "I get that I'm always involved with some exciting events, but-"

"Exciting?"Jane interrupted. "You'd call an ambush exciting."

"I'd call _some_ ambushes exciting." Harry corrected, halfway-serious. "There's a difference. Some are exciting, and some really aren't. For example, the one incident on Noveria, with the Rachni…" Here he paused, and the smiles fled from the faces of some of his teammates. Garrus, Liara, and Jane all nodded or indicated to the affirmative, suddenly serious.

"Rachni?" Kasumi questioned, eyes wide. Miranda suddenly sat up, much more attentive. Liara shuddered. "I thought the Rachni were all killed off a thousand years ago."

"Not quite." Garrus muttered. "Because there were certainly a few hundred of them between us and the door, back at Peak Fifteen." Miranda and Kasumi stared, while Mordin and Meirin considered. Jacob just looked interested.

"Hmm. Clearly not joking." Mordin finally announced, after a few moments of stunned silence. "Statistically improbable for two humans to remain silent about a humorous topic."

"Wait a second, here." Harry spoke up, incredulous. "Rachi are humorous?"

"Why, of course." Mordin replied, completely serious. "According to existing research data, Rachni are placed on the humor scale just below Krogan testicles, and just above species-ist anti-turian jokes."

Kasumi gaped. "Somebody actually studied jokes?"

"Certainly!" The salarian responded, almost indignantly. "Velanoe Orgulls, a salarian professor, performed an in-depth study of jokes, or as he called them, a being's 'Funny Factor.'"

"So could he measure somebody's 'Funny Factor?'" the wizard continued, expression showing near-complete disbelief. "Sounds like pseudoscience to me."

"Certainly not!" Mordin protested. "Orgulls received a citation from the association for Planetary Excellence in Natural Interstellar Sciences. He received a collection of prestigious awards for his work!" Keiji burst into gales of laughter mere seconds after Mordin's reply, and began whispering into Kasumi's ear. After a few moments had passed, Kasumi smirked, and lightly slapped her boyfriend's chest.

"You're such a child sometimes." she mumbled fondly to herself.

"Got something to share with the class?" Harry interrupted with a smile. Keiji returned his grin, and leaned forwards.

"Go figure out the acronym." he enunciated, with the same blissful happiness exhibited by the cat that catches the canary.

All the humans in the room either laughed or shook their heads in exasperation. All non-humans just looked confused.

"Thanks for that." Miranda rejoined the conversation, speaking stiffly. "But instead of vulgar jokes, could you please explain what you meant earlier about Rachni? From everything I understand to be true, they're all long dead."

"Somebody found a Rachni Queen." Jane explained grimly, cutting through the laughter. "And they managed to revive her. But once they made sure that she was sane and reasonable, they started to experiment on her offspring, instead of letting her go." She paused, scowling. "And then Saren and Sovereign found her." Her hands clenched into fists. "Reaper tech corrupted them, and turned them into mere husks of normal rachni. Cybernetic weaponry was flash-forged onto their corpses, and used in combat. We must have been ambushed by hundreds of the nasty skittering things." She explained.

"I've still got the video." Harry spoke softly. "I'll put up on the holotable for everyone to see later." the wizard pushed a few buttons on his omni-tool. "There." he said. "Whenever you want to see us getting ambushed by Reaper-ized rachni, feel free to head down to the port observation deck. I've set up the video on the holoprojector." An uncomfortable silence lingered for a long moment, before Harry poked Jane's food in her direction. "Eat up. Today will be a big day. We should be reaching Illium in a few hours."

The rest of breakfast passed in a contemplative blur. One by one, the crew disappeared from the mess hall, headed for their own ways to spend the time leading up to the Normandy's arrival on Illium. For a few hours, the ship was blissfully peaceful, the only noise being the eezo core's buzzing hum.

That peace wouldn't last.

…

Sometime around ten o'clock of the ship's day cycle, all aboard felt the Normandy quiver, and heard the deep brazen hum of the Eezo core go silent.

"Attention Normandy! This is Joker, your pilot speaking." came Jeff 'Joker' Moreau's familiar voice over the PA system. "EDI just picked up a Systems Alliance distress signal." he said, getting down to business. For once, he wasn't joking, and he wasn't making light of a dangerous situation. "One of our own colonies activated it, and was sending the highest priority warning they've got access to. Then something interesting happened." He paused for a moment.

"The signal broadcast for about two minutes, and then sent a message stating that the beacon had been activated accidentally. Then it was shut off. Now, normally, we'd leave it at that, and just keep going." Joker continued. "But EDI decided to scan the message, and ran some voice-recognition software on the last transmission. She immediately alerted me when she found that the voice profile matched that of a deep-cover Cerberus agent." the pilot was silent for a few moments, before asking for direction.

"Miranda, this is your call, as this is technically your ship." Joker said reluctantly. "But the way I see it, we've got two options. We can investigate, which will add two hours, minimum to our arrival on Illium… _If_ the distress beacon is actually a false alarm. Or, we can keep going, and head straight for our destination." He waited a few moments, and then added, "Miranda? What's your call? Investigate, or stay on course?"

A moment passed, frozen in time, before Miranda's voice rang out over the Normandy's speakers.

"Our primary mission is to rescue my sister." she said, unsurely. "But…" her voice wavered. "Joker, take us to the distress signal. In all likelihood, the Illusive Man won't be able to get a message to his forces on Illium for a while yet, thanks to Kasumi and her team's distraction. And even then, it should take him even longer to comb through all of Nos Astra to find her." Miranda's voice cut out. A few seconds passed, before she announced, "And everyone suit up. If there's fighting of any sort, I want everybody ready."

The makeshift crew, primarily composed of Kasumi's team of Cerberus defectors, rushed promptly to battle stations, while the ground team began to congregate by the armory. By the time the Normandy was even in the same system as the distressed colony, everyone was ready and in the shuttle. Everyone was prepared, or thought they were.

And then EDI's scans started to pour information out of the speakers.

…

Lyra Cassiopeia Malfoy was falling.

This was not an unusual turn of events, as she played quidditch on a fairly regular basis. It was always the same feeling. Losing her grasp on her broom, as it slipped through her fingers. The a sudden burst of adrenaline, as gravity's firm hand took hold of her. Then, finally, relief as her father's levitation charm caught her.

-And there it was. The same weightless feeling, followed soon by the jerk of a hastily-cast ' _Aresto Momentum_.' Lyra's aging father stared back at her, with the same grin that he always wore whenever she did something dangerous.

Old though he was, the ravages of time had not harmed Draco Malfoy. Well, not too much. At two-hundred and five, his face was heavily wrinkled, and his fingers gnarled. And, of course, he was bald. Lyra still laughed at the old pictures he still kept, of his childhood. Back when he had long white locks of hair. You see, premature balding had hit Draco Malfoy like an airplane hits a goose. Quickly, messily, and (in some cases) explosively. He was still slightly miffed about it, even one-hundred-eighty-ish years later.

He hovered Lyra over to him, and lowered her to the ground in a hug.

"Don't you ever do anything like that again." He told her. She giggled. It was their own private joke. Draco would reprimand her, but he never meant it. He spoiled her that way.

He spoiled her in other ways, as well. Like when he had bought her the latest new racing broom for her tenth birthday. Astoria, her mother, had chewed Draco out for the better part of an afternoon. All while Lyra corkscrewed and dove to her heart's content in the quidditch pitch behind the manor, of course.

Her parents were almost never strict with her. Lyra knew in the back of her mind that it was because she was a bit of a miracle baby. Nobody, not even magical couples, who could live well into their late two-hundreds, could expect a child past their late eighties. It just didn't happen. So when Astoria had started developing a noticeable baby bump at age one-hundred-eighty-three, the couple had simply hoped against hope, and prayed.

When it was confirmed that Astoria would be having a baby girl, there was no shortage of celebration in the Malfoy household. Scorpius Malfoy and his wife, Rose, had showed up with the Granger-Weasley and Weasley clans, and held the party of a lifetime.

Draco always said that he never remembered much of that night, other than a few drunken toasts to Daphne Greengrass, may she rest in peace, and a very serious (and highly inebriated) discussion about the whereabouts of one Harry Potter. Granger had brought it up, and was very vocal about the fact that his Unspeakable 'Field Agent' badge's monitoring charms had showed perfectly normal vitals, up until it expired, twenty years to the day after his disappearance. Everything else was off, but the vitals had still appeared fine.

Drunk-Hermione apparently disregarded the (clearly impossible) distance displacement data from the monitoring charm, which refused to display anything even remotely within the realm of possibility.

Either way, Harry Potter was far from Draco's mind in the later portion of July, on the Alliance Standard calendar. Draco and Lyra had decided to go on a week-long vacation, to celebrate her eleventh birthday. And out of all the cities, on all the worlds he'd seen, Draco had chosen Earnest City, on Guevara.

The planet was warm, and a full quarter of the city looked out on beautiful, pristine turquoise waves washing onto the natural sand beach. Draco certainly liked to enjoy the finer things in life.

Although he couldn't get that damn buzzing out of his head. It had been annoying him all day. He'd heard an especially large freighter -It sounded like a freighter, at least. Whatever it was, it certainly had some heavy-duty engines.- coming in for a landing. Not long afterwards, the buzzing had started. Like an angry swarm of bees, the noise had only seemed to get louder, and more annoying.

Finally, he called out for Lyra to come in to shore. She swam back to the sand with the energy of a child having fun, and dragged her metaphorical feet just enough to be promised an ice-cream cone on the way back to the hotel.

The pair stepped happily up the path from the beach, heading upwards towards the City proper. The buzzing only got louder. Finally, Draco pulled out his wand. Maybe he was paranoid, but something strange was afoot.

"Stay close." he told Lyra, as the material beneath their feet changed from sand to asphalt. The wizard gazed around, wand still raised. He smiled ruefully, as he realized what a sight he'd make. A wizard in a bathing suit, and barefoot, waving his wand around like a paranoid unspeakable. Which he'd been, at one point in his life, so the comparison wasn't that inaccurate.

The buzzing sound approached, growing louder still. A swirling swarm of palm-sized insects rushed towards Draco and his young charge, startling him. With a wave of his wand, a wall of wind interspersed itself between Draco and the creatures.

With a lightning-quick _Accio_ and a _Stupefy_ , Malfoy soon found himself holding one of the small insects, stunned and insensate. He examined the thing with an eye for detail, which he had honed for three decades as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries.

The first thing he noticed was the massive stinger. It was smooth, implying that the creature would be able to sting multiple times. Unlike that of a bumblebee, where the stinger would stick into the victim, killing the bee.

The he noticed the magic. Draco's eyes narrowed, as he studied the creature further. Somehow, someone had applied some sort of a mind-control effect to these creatures. He now knew enough. These insect swarms, and their enchantments, were clear evidence of magical malfeasance. He'd have to submit a report with the Auror department when he got back to Earth.

A well-aimed _Incendio_ took care of the vast majority of the insects. A few more castings completed their destruction.

Draco listened carefully for any more buzzing noises. Thankfully, he couldn't hear anything nearby. However, he detected something that worried him even more.

Silence.

Somehow, that put him on edge more than the buzzing did. Because that meant that the entire city had been silenced in some form or fashion. Perhaps unconsciousness, perhaps a specialized silencing ward, or perhaps hostile action. And that hinted at stronger and stranger magics than simple mind-controlled swarms of bugs.

As he thought about it, now, Draco realized that he hadn't heard the hustle and bustle of the city for a few hours now. What had happened? He cursed his own inattentiveness, and strained to hear any sign of the city's populace.

Suddenly, the insectoid hum returned with a vengeance. Draco looked up, and spotted what appeared to be six or seven car-sized monstrosities flying towards him, followed closely by another cloud of bugs.

Another wall of wind prevented the small creatures from getting too close, but one of the larger creatures passed right through Draco's protection.

He gaped at the creature, as it landed in front of him. He could almost _feel_ the necromantic evil pouring off of the creature. A pseudo-mouth of some sort in the center of its floating body had its gullet filled with human skulls with glowing eyes, above which a set of four cameras of sorts were placed.

"I'm scared." Lyra fumbled, holding onto Draco. He tried to apparate- and shuddered. A deep gong-like sound reverberated across the street. If he had hair, it would have steamed and stood on end, as if he'd just poked a live wire.

"Malfoys don't get scared." he absently replied, trying to think of something, anything he could do. He wasted a second looking down at his daughter- she had forgotten her broom at the beach. Then the creature hissed, it's glow becoming a sizzling flash of light that raced towards Draco's chest.

The wizard turned, shielding Lyra with his body, and a heavy _Protego._ Unfortunately, the blast of energy tore straight through his shield.

That was impossible, Draco mused. He'd been the best duelist in the entire Department of Mysteries since Harry Potter. Nothing could break through his shields in one hit.

Of course, he certainly had evidence to disprove that, as the agonizing pain in his arm and chest forced him to grit his teeth. Bodily picking Lyra up with his remaining good arm, he dove into cover behind a ferro-crete divider.

"Lyra." he whispered through the pain in his arm, which he didn't dare look at. "Remember how I taught you to give memories to Aurors?" he hissed.

"Y-yes?" Lyra replied, panicking.

"Good." Draco said, trying to calm his daughter. He heard the telltale thrum as one of the winged skull-mawed creatures took to the air. "I'll cast a stasis charm on you. You'll be fine. You'll probably wake up to Aurors. Show them what happened here."

"I don't-" Lyra shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Sorry." Draco murmured, before raising his wand. " _Vestibulum!_ " he cried. A sphere of blue encased his daughter, now safely frozen in an impervious bubble; safe from harm, safe from starvation, and safe from time. Draco fell to his knees, grimacing at the pain in his torso. Two of the massive creatures flew over his meager cover, and began glowing, as if they were preparing to fire again.

"Damn you!" Draco coughed out, finding a well of anger that surprised even him. "Damn you all!" He cried out. Then he glanced at his wand, and at the stasis charm. "Heh! Ha!" he laughed, wheezing. "That'll hold fast." And then, almost as an afterthought, he raised his wand again. Drawing in a rasped breath, he cast the one spell that he was certain would destroy the _things_ that had attacked him and his daughter.

" _Incaendium Infernus!"_ He shouted, and a vast red swath of Fiendfyre enveloped the creatures. They shrieked and quivered, melting and burning.

The last thing Draco felt was a stinging pinprick on the back of his neck, and a tugging sensation under his arms, before all went black, and he succumbed to unconsciousness.

…

"Now in orbit of human colony world 'Guevara.'" EDI announced over the PA system.

"Guevara?" Jane queried. "I'm not aware of an Alliance colony by that name. What can you tell me about it, EDI?"

"Guevara isn't an Alliance sponsored colony." EDI explained. "It was formed by a large consortium of people who wished to create their own form of government, separate from the Alliance. The planet's atmosphere is humid, and is covered with thick rainforest all across the equator, and well into the further reaches of the far north and south poles. The colony's main city, Earnest, is located on the southernmost tip of a lush and heavily forested continent." EDI described. "Local flora is unusual, in that it has been reported to contain many combinations of chemicals that are extraordinarily difficult to synthesize in a lab. Strangely, there has been no attempt to exploit the jungles of Guevara by interstellar pharmaceutical companies."

"Scans of Earnest city also show significant destruction." EDI continued, modulating her voice to properly reflect shock. "The southern portion of the city is burning, releasing a pillar of smoke into the upper atmosphere. I'm getting many strange readings on the fire, so I suspect it may be chemical in nature. It should be visible from orbit. Be on your guard, ground team, and good luck." EDI broadcast into the shuttle as it blasted out of the Normandy's shuttle bay. Then to all occupants of the Normandy, EDI explained that she had sent another distress signal to Alliance Command, and that there should be an Alliance cruiser and frigate complement in-system in less than six hours.

That was no comfort to the ground team. They'd be jumping feet-first into the fray as soon as they landed, and they still had very little information about the situation on the ground.

"We'll be in visual range of the city in a few seconds." Kasumi announced from the aircraft's cockpit. As she was still recovering from her injuries, she wouldn't be taking part in any fighting. Instead, she'd simply be piloting the shuttle.

Kasumi wasn't the only one sitting out of the fighting; Miranda had stayed back at the Normandy, as she was its commanding officer. If necessary, she'd be coordinating with Joker and the ground team in order to line up orbital strikes from the Normandy's guns. And Keiji was less of a weapons specialist, and more of an engineer. So he was in the guts of the Normandy, frantically calibrating everything in sight.

Jane, Harry, and the rest of the ground team glanced at the shuttle's displays, which showed the view from the exterior of the vehicle. Towers of smoke were visible off in the distance, where flames licked at the sky. Strangely, half the city remained untouched by the fires, although they were still spreading.

"Fiendfyre." Harry whispered, in a horrified tone. Jane immediately stared in his direction, a question on her breath. "That's Fiendfyre." he said again, answering Jane's unspoken query.

"Damn." She cursed, and whispered back, unheard amidst the clanking and rumbling of the shuttle. "Is there anything you can do?"

"Yeah." Harry muttered, eyes distant. "Yeah. There's definitely something I can do." he looked up. " It'll be dangerous, and mildly suicidal, but I can certainly do something about that fire."

"Your hubris is showing." Jane sent the wizard a weak smile.

"Hey!" he replied, jokingly indignant. "It's only hubris if it fails."

"Then don't fail." Jane replied, talking about more than just the fire.

A wry grin stole its way onto Harry's face. "It's been a long time since I've had to do something like this, but I think I've still got it." he said.

And then he disappeared with a muffled crack, drawing all the shuttle's passengers' attention. Jane looked at the displays on the side of the shuttle's door, while Mordin and Meirin freaked out. The two salarians immediately whipped out omni-tools, and scanned Harry's seat thoroughly. Despite being dashed against the shuttle's walls whenever the vehicle hit a patch of turbulence, the two scientists seemed happy.

"Teleportation!" Mordin announced, with a wide smile. "Must research further-" and then he was interrupted.

"Blast!" Kasumi yelled from the pilot's-seat, and jerked the controls, shaking the shuttle around. "Look at the displays!" she shouted, panicked and surprised. "There's some sort of creature following us!"

Jane looked at the screen, and saw the animal. Harry had shone her a picture of that sort of creature before, she mused, as she recognized the skeletal-grey winged horse-like figure.

"That's a thestral." she called to the cockpit, trying to calm Kasumi. "They're peaceful, for the most part."

"Well it's huge!" replied the asian woman, voice surprisingly strong, considering that she'd been shot in the lung not a day ago. "And it's flying at eight-hundred kilometers an hour!"

Jane remained silent, as the thestral peeled away from the shuttle. Getting a better look at the screen, her eyes widened as she also noticed the size of the creature.

"They're normally not that large." Jane muttered. The thestral, truly a magnificent member of its species, took off towards the burning part of the city. Kasumi, still swearing under her breath, took the shuttle towards the (relatively) untouched districts, and brought the shuttle in for a landing.

As soon as she disembarked, a chill ran up Jane's spine. The charred, half-burnt corpse of a strange insectoid creature -not reaper-ized rachni, but covered in similar glowing particles- lay trapped under part of a collapsed wall. Bullet-holes and charred marks upon the sides of buildings, the ground, and possible cover marked the locations where a shot had gone off course. A scent of burned _something-_ not burnt flesh, but a similar smell wafted from the creature's corpse.

"Collectors." hissed Meirin. "They usually trade for slaves in the Terminus systems." the salarian explained for the group's benefit. "I've got no idea why they'd be here."

"Alright. EDI, what can you tell me?" Jane asked, eyes scanning her surroundings.

"Shepard, it seems probable that this was an abduction." EDI announced. "However, based off of the state of Earnest City, it appears the Collectors were not expecting the level of resistance they received." the AI paused for a second. "You may find survivors, or civilians who were overlooked in the chaos of combat. The Collectors shouldn't have been able to take the entire city's population."

"Then let's start looking." Shepard muttered, face grim, with her lips downturned into a frown.

A mile or so away, the flames in the burning portion of the city towered far into the sky, twisting and writhing like burning snakes. An acrid sulphurous stench carried on the wind towards Jane's group.

...

"Any life-signs?" Miranda asked from the Normandy's CIC, or combat information center. "Prioritize possible survivors."

"Yes." EDI announced, with some surprise. "I've detected four faint signatures not far from the Ground Team's position. I'll mark the location on their heads-up-displays, and explain the circumstances."

"Wonderful. Thank you, EDI." Miranda replied, thoughts elsewhere.

"Is something bothering you, Miss Lawson?" EDI spoke up, after a few seconds had passed. "You seem to be taking part in activities that suggest distress, or frustration." then in a softer tone, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"What do you mean?" Miranda asked, self-consciously. "What 'activities' are you talking about?"

"Wandering eyes, Picking at fingernails, checking the time on your omni-tool much more than is regular, and constant pacing." EDI listed. "According to a few psychology textbooks I've recently downloaded, those actions indicate worry, frustration, impatience, stress, and possibly sexual tension."

Miranda spluttered, as a blush tinted her cheeks.

"That was a joke." EDI added, deadpan.

…

"Shepard, I've found the locations of what appears to be four survivors. I've marked their locations on your head's up display." EDI announced over the Ground Team's radios. "For now, they'll be your priority."

"Got it, EDI." Jane replied. "We're on our way."

A waypoint flashed into existence a few hundred meters off into the distance, in between the Ground Team and the burning southern half of the city.

"May I ask where our teleporting squadmate's destination was?" Asked Mordin, as the group cautiously made their way towards the conflagration devouring the buildings a few hundred meters ahead of them.

….

"Harry, may I ask what you're doing in the middle of an active incendiary weapon?" the Normandy's resident AI broadcast into the wizard's helmet.

"EDI?" came the distant reply.

"Yes, Harry." the AI confirmed.

"This isn't a fire-bomb." Harry explained, after a few seconds. His breathing was heavy, as though he was halfway through a marathon. "This is magical fire. It's called fiendfyre, and is extraordinarily destructive."

"Then why are you standing in it?" EDI asked, confused.

"Because I'm trying to take control of it." Harry rasped, voice hoarse. "Somebody cast the spell, and then probably wasn't able to dispel the flames. So I'm going to begin where the caster left off, and dispel this stuff."

"That sounds… difficult." EDI stated. "How much time do you expect dispelling the flames will take?"

"You can bet your shiny robotic ass that this is hard." Harry coughed. "And I've got no idea how long this might take." a few seconds passed, and then Harry spoke again. "Ah, bloody bollocks. It's fighting back. Give me a few minutes-" and then his voice was distorted, and engulfed in static.

"Harry?" the Normandy's AI queried in a worried tone.

She received no response.

…

Jane drew in a sharp breath, as she stopped in place.

Something wasn't right.

She was certain that she'd seen the fire _flinch._ And she'd seen the same thing happen across the entire wall of burning cinders and smoke. So massive that it engulfed half the city, the flames had frozen in place for a split-second, before resuming their previous course.

"There!" she called out, not bothering to point out the phenomenon. They'd all been moving towards the fire, and had needed no further prompting to notice it.

And then the blaze resumed its motion, but something was subtly _wrong._ The flames were faster, and almost malicious. They hissed, rather than crackled, and turned a darker orange. The fire grew higher and higher, and Shepard thought for a second that she could make out shapes in the towering burning mass.

But then the fire began to retreat. Jane thought it was a retreat, at least. The flames at the edge of the inferno slowly crept backwards, towards the fire's epicenter. Then faster, and faster, until all that was visible of the cursed flame was a blazing hemisphere of writhing orange flame in the distance. Left behind were charred and burnt shells of buildings, stabbing into the smoky skies like a blackened forest after a wildfire.

Making their way towards the waypoint marking the few remaining survivors, the group started noticing more and more destruction. Some parts of the street were vaporized entirely, as if hit by anti-tank weaponry. Storefronts and windows shared a similar fate, covered in bullet-holes and shattered by rubble and debris. In a few areas, walls and floors had dripped downwards, as if melted by intense heat. Piles of still-warm rubble in those areas were frequently filled with lumps of charred chitin from the insectoid Collectors. Long gouges ran criss-cross over a few spots, where more alien corpses could be found, mostly cut cleanly in half, mechanism of injury unknown.

But by far the worst part was the area surrounding the four remaining life-signs.

Literal piles of alien corpses, splattered liberally with oozing yellow-green blood, littered the street where it widened and broadened into a central market square of some sort. Even Shepard had to steady herself when the putrid scent of Collector guts assailed her nostrils.

As the group advanced into the square, they noticed the remains of a fountain which had once stood in the center of the area, as the crowning jewel of a monument of some sort, now reduced to rubble. A strange vibrating hum pervaded the area, and Jane's keen eyes were quickly drawn to the source of the noise.

A faintly glowing blue-green sphere of energy floated freely, encasing four armored figures. Odd red cloaks hung from their shoulders, charred by fire, and torn and tattered by Collector gunfire. All four were immobile, halted mid-step as if frozen in time. One was supporting his companion, who leaned heavily on his shoulder, wand raised. Another sat in cover, pistol clenched in one hand, and wand in the other.

The fourth and final figure, clad in the same heavy grey armor as his companions, held his wand aloft. Twirling frozen light emerged from the tip of his magical focus, marking the epicenter of the spell that had frozen them.

"Ah!" Mordin cried out, jumping from foot to foot as if he'd won the lottery. "What's this? Must examine. Fascinating, fascinating, fascinating." he muttered, descending into incoherence. Stepping forwards quickly, he began to wave his omni-tool around the sphere, staring at the results. Humming madly, the salarian made an almost inaudible noise of dissatisfaction, before plunging his hand into the glowing shell.

"Don't touch that!" Jane yelled, a moment too late. "We don't even know what- Ah, hell..." She mumbled.

The glowing sphere vanished, popping like a balloon as Mordin's hand passed through it. Simultaneously, the four red-cloaked figures began to move, as if some omnipotent figure had pushed a 'play' button on a previously paused video.

"-lien bullshit!" one of the figures yelled, continuing a conversation he'd clearly been having before he'd been frozen.

"Ah." the spell's caster announced, chiding. "Somebody ended the stasis spell. We-" The man froze, staring at Jane and the rest of the Ground Team. "Shit!" he cursed loudly. "These are mundanes, not a retrieval team!"

The man's teammates froze again, almost as if they'd been re-affected by the same spell they'd been under mere moments earlier.

"We just took a sledgehammer to the Statutes of Secrecy, didn't we?" One of the grey-armored figures groaned.

"Not necessarily." Jane spoke up, recalling a conversation with Harry. "I already know about you wizards, so I'll just have to brief some of my squadmates."

The four wizards froze again.

Off on the distance, the glowing orange of the fiendfyre slowly guttered, and died out. The tower of smoke and ash slowed its upward journey into the sky, but the sulphur scent still remained.

"Well at least the Fiendfyre's out." one figure mumbled. "Looks like we didn't need that stasis spell after all."

"Cursed fire like that doesn't just _go out_ on its own like this." A woman's voice chided in a hissed whisper, staring at the sky. "Well, it does, but it takes weeks. We'd be standing in the middle of a burnt-out ruin, as well. And, since we're not getting pulled out of our stasis-ward by a retrieval team two months after the fact, I'd say someone or some _thing_ decided that the Fiendfyre needed to go away."

"Front and center, please." the foremost cloaked figure interrupted. Quickly, all conversation from his three companions stopped. "Alright. How about introductions?" the lead wizard began. Cautiously, he stepped forward. Disheveled brown hair spilled from his helmet, as he removed it, and tossed it to the ground. Extending his arm, he shook Shepard's hand, announcing, "I'm Cedric Diggory the Third, Auror extraordinaire. A pleasure to meet you."

"Jane Shepard. Council Spectre." Jane replied, returning the handshake. "Let's get down to business." she continued. "Do you have any idea why the Collectors were here?"

"Merlin, Morgana, and Circe!" one Auror wizard shouted in stunned surprise. Jane noted that the wizard was in fact a witch, based off her voice. Cedric scowled, and spun around. "Look at the size of that thestral!"

Jane turned sideways, and immediately recognized the creature that had inspired such surprise in the female Auror. The thestral's grey, near-skeletal wings and emaciated form flew gracefully through the air not twenty feet above her head, giving her a stunning visual of the creature's wingspan.

Landing on the other side of the square, the thestral cantered lightly towards the Ground Team and the four Aurors.

"Ah. Same creature we observed from the shuttle." stated Meirin, while tapping Mordin on the shoulder. Drawing his colleague's attention, the two salarians quickly fell into muted conversation, rapid and quiet.

"I don't think I've ever seen a thestral anywhere near that size." Diggory the third announced, with a puzzled expression. "And that one certainly isn't from any of the local herds. There shouldn't be a thestral older than fifteen years of age anywhere on the planet." Answering Shepard's confused glance, the auror added, "According to the Department for the Protection of Magical Creatures, there weren't any above eight years in the herds that were brought here. I don't see how that one managed to grow to such-"

And then everyone's eyes were drawn to the thestral, as it brought its head down from the level of a nearby building's fourth floor window down into a deep bow. Jane had the unerring sensation that the creature was bowing to her, and nobody else.

Then it rippled and transformed, in a blur of magic and scaled black skin. In its place stood a familiar figure, twirling a wand.

"Harry?" Jane asked, awed and uncertain, as she recognized a friend. "You showed me a picture of a thestral, but you never said you could transform into one."

"Right." the wizard easily replied. "I think we got a bit distracted during the telling of that story. At least, distracted enough that I forgot to show you my animagus form."

Mordin and Merin stood open-mouthed, staring at the spot where the thestral had stood.

"Wait just a moment." one of the Aurors requested with alarm. "You've been telling mundanes about the Magical World?"

"Yeah." Harry responded absently.

"Then," Diggory the Third spoke slowly, "I'm going to have to ask you to relinquish your wand, and come with us. Willfully breaking the Statutes of Secrecy is a highly criminal act, and possessing an unregistered Animagus form is a further misdemeanor." The aurors raised their wands.

Jane's fingers brushed her pistol's grip.

Harry looked up. "Now hold on, hold on." he protested. "I've got a bloody license for this. I was an Unspeakable."

Cedric the Third's eyebrows shot up. "You look a bit young, for an Unspeakable." he said, slowly moving to grab his wand. "The Auror Department and the Department of Mysteries were merged into the Department of Wizarding Security almost a century ago."

"Aha!" Harry cried out, and pulled a manilla folder from a bottomless pocket. "Let's see, let's see…" he mumbled, while flipping through papers. A moment later, he surfaced, with a thick piece of paper heavily embossed with fancy ink. "Here. Feast your eyes." the wizard grinned.

The lead Auror examined the paper in a somewhat exasperated manner, until he reached the name and signature at the bottom.

"You're Harry Potter?" he breathed, interested yet disbelieving. "Prove it. An employment notice can be forged."

"They can," Harry conceded, before adding, "but the Department of Mysteries' 'Field Agent' badges expire after about twenty years, so I can't use that. How about…" He reached back into his bottomless pocket. "My first Order of Merlin?" he asked, pulling out a framed award, and a document that almost glowed.

"Cedric-" one of the other Aurors asked.

"Cedric?" Harry questioned, suddenly interested. "I knew a Cedric when I went to Hogwarts. Cedric Diggory. He's dead now, but-"

"I'm Cedric Diggory." the lead Auror interrupted, obviously caught off-balance. "I don't remember you at Hogwarts." The man paused, and remembered his etiquette. "And I don't believe we've been introduced."

"You look like he did." Harry said, in answer to the red-cloaked man's first question, "But the Cedric I knew died the twenty-fourth of June, in the year nineteen ninety-five."

There was a brief moment of confused silence, before the auror spoke up, eyes flashing. "The you knew my great-great-uncle."

"Briefly, yeah." Harry replied.

"Then you know how he died?" The head auror's gaze focused. "If you're the same Harry Potter who went to school with my however-many-greats-uncle, then you'd have watched it. You took the same portkey."

"Yes, I know _exactly_ how he died." Harry clenched a fist. "Voldemort told Peter Pettigrew to ' _kill the spare,'_ and then Pettigrew hit Cedric with a killing curse before he could react. And yes, I was definitely there. I had nightmares about him for years." Diggory the Third weighed Harry's words against his better judgement for a few moments, until he finally replied.

"I want the memory." Cedric ground out. "I want to see how my uncle died."

Harry sighed. "We'd best sit down." he waved one arm, and a pair of chairs snapped into existence. "Have a seat." the wizard said. "I'll drag you through my occlumency barriers in a moment."

Jane ushered the Ground Team away from the wizards. She wasn't willing to get sucked into another memory- the first time had been uncomfortable enough.

"You'll get plenty of chances to talk to him later." she admonished Mordin and Meirin. Both of the salarians were stubbornly attempting to eavesdrop on Harry's conversation.

Harry sat down in his chair, and invited Cedric to sit in the other one. Then with a wave of his hand, the pair of wizards were deep inside Harry's mind.

And then the memory began.

...

" _Wands out, d'you reckon?"_

" _Kill the spare."_

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

" _Bow, Harry."_

" _Imperio!"_

 _"Don't you turn your back on me, Harry Potter! I want to see the light leave your eyes!"_

" _CRUCIO!"_

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

" _Expelliarmus!"_

" _He was a real wizard, then? Killed me, that one did… You fight him, boy..."_

" _We'll distract him Harry. Take the cup and go!"_

" _Harry, Can you take my body back? For my parents, I mean."_

" _Accio!"_

" _That's my boy!"_

" _That's my boy…"_

…

Cedric Diggory (the Third) opened his eyes. Taking the offered hand to lift himself out of the heavy cushions of his chair, he looked at the stranger - _Harry Potter!_ \- in a new light.

"You're free to go." Cedric extended his hand. Harry shook it. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

"Oh, not at all." Harry replied, graciously. "An inconvenience is somebody shooting at me. Talking is fine."

"Yes, but I was referring to my report." Cedric smiled. "I've got to include your existence. I'm afraid your anonymity will be limited to the auror office. You've existed this long without discovery, I figure you'd want to keep it quiet."

"It's alright." Harry sighed. "I wasn't going to be unknown for too much longer."

"We could set up a P.O. box for you at the auror office." Cedric replied, half-joking.

"You do that." Harry laughed. "As long as you deal with all the marriage proposals and undergarments that arrive."

"Undergarments?" Diggory asked, disbelieving.

"Definitely. You'd be surprised at what people used to send me." Harry grinned. "I used to pay the goblins to screen my mail, and every couple months they'd send me a notice stating what exactly I received in an itemized list. I used to have them drop anything I didn't want into the dragon enclosures."

"Huh." Cedric's eyebrows rose. "They certainly left all of that out of our 'History of Magic' lessons, in Hogwarts."

"Wait, wait." Harry froze. "You learned about me in history class?"

"Merlin, did we ever!" the Auror grinned. "Harry Potter: 'The Chosen One.'" He air-quoted. "The most famous figure in recent history, prophesied nearly from birth to kill the worst dark lord since Grindelwald, bring balance to the force, and fix the wizarding world single handedly."

"Bring balance to the force?" Harry queried, in a confused tone. "Is that a reference to Star Wars?"

"Definitely." Diggory replied.

"And how did the wizarding world suddenly take an interest in mundane culture?" Harry asked, genuinely confused.

"Daphne Greengrass, the civil rights activist," Cedric's face scrunched up, as he tried to recall some details, "You probably knew her, actually." he added, tentative. "She was one of the leading supporters of the Mundane Rights Act. It expanded the list of mundanes to whom the existence of the magical world could be revealed. Although," Diggory paused, "Mundane stuff only really became popular in the late two-thousand-and-thirties, with the Mandrel Incident."

"Sorry, Mandrel Incident?" Harry questioned. "The name isn't ringing any bells."

"The Mandrel Incident," Cedric stated, as if quoting from a textbook, "was the largest violation of the Statutes of Secrecy in wizarding history. Culminating in the mass obliviation of three and a half million people, it provided the necessary impulse required to pass the Mundane Rights bill through the Wizengamot, despite remaining anti-muggle prejudices." He smiled again. "That's what the Auror Handbook says about it. What they aren't mentioning is any of the names, or the actual crime."

Harry tilted his head. "Sounds boring."

"Not at all." Diggory the Third replied. "David Mandrel, a Mundane-raised wizard, was a near-prodigy with Ancient Runes. Somehow, he became mentally ill - the Department of Wizarding Security never figured out how." the Auror mumbled. "But the point is that he made a magical projector, on an unprecedented scale. And then he broadcast a marathon of every Star Wars movie ever made."

Harry scratched his head. "I'm not seeing how that's a crime." He admitted, a moment later. Cedric's grin grew even wider, causing Harry to worry for the structural stability of the man's face.

"He broadcast it onto the moon."

"Oh." was all Harry could say. "That makes sense."

"Yeah." Cedric nodded. "That's sort-of why we're here. Thanks to the Mandrel Doctrine, the DMLE has magic-detection devices on every human colony across the galaxy. So when the Department started picking up some strange readings, they sent a team of Aurors." he gestured to his three companions. "Us."

"What do you mean by 'strange readings'?" Jane interjected. "And I know the Alliance has similar devices across most of human space, but it's difficult to get a naval detachment from Alliance Command in time to deal with any immediate problems. We saw that on Feros. What usually happens is the nearest Alliance vessel gets diverted. Is that what happened to you?"

"Basically. We were an early response team somewhere in the Hades Gamma Cluster about to go on active deployment. When the message came in, we just changed our destination to Guevara, instead of our original target."

"And the strange readings?" Shepard continued.

Cedric scowled, eyes far away. "Fear." he finally replied. "Sheer overwhelming terror."

"We'd thought that there had been a malfunction," One of his comrades spoke up. "Or that the sensor hadn't been placed right." The man was shivering, despite the hot, humid atmosphere. "We were wrong."


	13. Priority: Damsel(s) in Distress

"We portkey-chained into Earnest City's magical district, and found ourselves swarmed by thousands of large stinging insects of some sort." Diggory pointed out a few crushed lumps of winged chitin on the ground. "They seemed to be paralyzing the civilian population via some sort of venom in their stingers."

"If not for the anti-paralyzation and anti-poison charms on our cloaks, we'd be done for." The female auror added.

"And then we found out why everyone was being paralyzed." Cedric scowled. "They were taken."

"Taken?" Jane frowned. "They were kidnapped?"

"Well they aren't here, are they?" the injured Auror yelled in frustration.

"I'm detecting another life-sign!" EDI interrupted, voice urgent. "Signal is _very_ weak, and smaller than normal. It's also well inside the burned portion of the city."

"Where?" Harry asked, standing upright.

"I've marked it on your HUD." EDI replied.

"I'm on my way." the wizard's voice rang out.

In Jane's peripheral vision, a towering grey wall rose up between the sun and her. She turned her head, and saw that the wall was just the flank of the massive, magnificent thestral- _Harry's Animagus form._ The creature flapped its wings, and rose into the air as if it weighed much less than it appeared to. Dust flew from the drafts generated by the thestral's wings. Jane shielded her eyes for a few seconds, before the gusts settled. The sound of beating wings quieted, as the massive thestral vanished amidst the forest of charred, burnt towers of glass and steel.

There was silence.

Jane turned to the four Aurors, gazing expectantly. One of them moved to place Diggory, their leader, between himself and Shepard.

"Alright. Let's get moving!" Jane called out, as Kasumi's shuttle swooped by. The vehicle spun, and landed with a rush of wind, and the _whumph_ of eezo engines changing polarity.

"Get in!" cried a bored Kasumi, as the Normandy's ground crew poured into the craft. "Unless you can fly, I'm your ride."

"Actually…" Diggory stated, coolly pulling a smooth broom from a pocket far too small to house the object. Mordin's eyes grew wider still, if such a thing was possible. "We'll follow you." finished Cedric. His three companions soon grabbed brooms of their own, as Diggory hovered above.

"Wizards." Kasumi huffed. "Always showing off."

"You're just miffed that they didn't have to rob a Cerberus base in order to be invisible." Jacob teased.

Kasumi sighed. "That's not it." she said. "I just don't get it."

"Don't get what?" Jane interjected.

"All that power-" Kasumi scrunched up her face in confusion, unseen by the shuttle's passengers, "...And they don't even steal anything! Seriously! At least one of them should have decided to steal the entire Tower of London, or something. I'm disappointed."

Laughter filled the shuttle.

"What do you think happened to the Statue of Liberty?" Jane asked. "I think you fell asleep before Harry explained that."

Kasumi's eyes bugged out.

Once again, a wave of laughter echoed around the shuttle.

...

Harry weaved in between the blackened buildings and the trunks of fallen skyscrapers, covered in twisted and melted steel. Finally, he caught a glimpse of blue. Another stasis charm, he concluded. And a powerful one, at that. Nothing else could have survived the Fiendfyre. The wizard swooped down for a landing, and was instantly on guard. Something foul had been here.

Harry transformed, and stepped cautiously towards the stasis bubble. He inhaled, and caught a deep whiff of sulfur. The wizard's eyes widened, and his wand came out of its holster in a blur. The wizard waited and watched his surroundings for a few breathless moments, before relaxing.

If something was trying to ambush him, they'd have done it by now. Nothing hid behind the buildings, or in their wrecks. Nothing leapt out at him, and nothing burst up from below.

The wizard made his way towards the stasis bubble, and froze, a short distance away.

With a whoosh, Kasumi's shuttle landed nearby. The four Aurors swooped in on brooms, alighting next to Harry. He raised a closed fist, indicating that they stop.

"Check this out." He announced, pointing to the ground at his feet.

A series of massive five-toed footprints formed a circle around the glowing blue bubble. Harry followed them the whole way around, but found no others. The footprints were only around the sphere, nowhere else.

"What creature leaves footprints like that?" One auror asked, as the occupants of Kasumi's shuttle poured out.

"I'm not sure." Diggory replied. "But look at the toes. Those claws look pretty nasty."

"Where could it have gone?" added another auror. "Could it have teleported away? Apparated?"

"No." Harry replied. His gaze lingered on a fallen streetlight, melted and bent. "It flew. Look- There's no trace of apparition. It was here within the last few hours. If it displaced itself, we'd be able to find some residue."

"I knew it was possible to track apparation, but I didn't know it left anything behind." one Auror remarked. "But what about other methods of teleportation?"

"Well," Harry began, "Usually you can find holes. If somebody displaced themselves somewhere, I mean. The longer you wait, the smaller the holes."

Cedric's eyebrows rose. "Hit-wizards just look for any trace of magic remaining at the crime scene. I've never heard them talking about 'holes' of any sort."

"Holes, as in eddies or ripples, in whatever medium you're moving around in." Harry clarified. "For example, apparation leaves some pretty visible tracks. Not only do you leave behind enough magic to be identified, but you also poke a few holes in the fabric of the universe. Anyone who can sense magic with even the slightest amount of skill can get a general idea of where you've gone, even if you're careful. You get the same effect with time-turners."

"That's… Fascinating, actually." The female Auror interjected. "But we've got a witness in a stasis bubble here." she pointed at the blue sphere, in which a young girl was frozen, with her hand outstretched. She appeared distraught, and tears, frozen in time, rolled down her face.

"Let's wake her up." Diggory stated, galvanized into action. He stepped forward, but fidgeted briefly. "Would anyone like to do the honors?" he gazed at Harry.

"Me?" Harry looked on in surprise. "Why me?"

"Great-Grandmum Zabini always said you were good with kids." Cedric replied, perfectly serious.

"Wait-wait-wait." Harry coughed, disbelieving. "Which Zabini?"

"Blanche Zabini." Cedric explained. "My great-granddad, Amos Diggory, married her after his first wife died."

"The Black Widow?" Harry laughed. "This is the same Blanche Zabini that I'm thinking of, right?"

"I've never heard of her being called by that name, but yeah, I think so." the auror replied.

"So you're telling me that Amos married the woman who infamously got hitched to eight people- who all mysteriously died, each leaving her massive sums of money?"

"Yeah, actually." Diggory replied, rather nonchalantly.

"Did she kill him?" Harry wondered. "Or did he divorce her in time?"

Diggory smiled. "Neither. He outlived her. I spoke to her portrait not a week ago."

"And she told you that I was good with kids?" Harry ran one hand through his hair.

"Well, yeah." the Auror responded. "She told me about how you were a great uncle to Teddy Lupin, and all of the other kids Bill and Fleur Weasley adopted. Apparently there was this one quidditch game you went to, where you managed to keep all ten of them happy and excited the whole way through."

"I remember that game." Harry muttered. "I think I spent more time yelling at the Puddlemere Seeker than talking to the kids."

"Either way," Cedric concluded, "Great-grandmum said the game was very impressive."

"I wonder what she thought was impressive?" Harry snorted. "My expert child-wrangling skills? Or the fact that half the crowd, and both team's seekers were looking at me to figure out where the snitch was?"

Cedric shrugged.

Harry stepped towards the stasis-bubble, and popped it with a poke.

Immediately, the sphere disappeared with a blue flash. The girl animated with a cry.

"Dad!" she called, eyes sweeping her surroundings desperately. Spotting Harry, her tear-stained face focused on him. "Where'd my dad go?" she questioned, voice plaintive.

"I'm not sure." Harry spoke gently, while lowering himself to a kneel. "But we're gonna find him. Could you tell me your name?"

The girl hiccuped. "I'm Lyra." she hiccuped again. Then, visibly trying to calm herself, the girl announced, "I'm supposed to give my memory to the Aurors. Just like when dad used the pensieve." she trembled, pointing to her forehead. Harry quickly placed his wand against her temple, and drew it away, trailing a silver-white stream of memory. He conjured a bottle, and carefully deposited the substance inside.

"Thank you." Harry said, practically shining with sincerity. "We're going to get your dad back as soon as we can, alright?" The girl shuddered, more tears shimmering in her eyes. She nodded. "C'mere." Harry held out his arms, and smiled sadly. "You're safe now." he assured. The girl nodded again, then rushed sobbing into Harry's arms, and began to bawl her heart out. He rocked her, as she buried her face in his shoulder. "It'll be alright." he crooned. Then, under his breath, Harry mouthed a spell. " _Somnus!"_ he cast. Slowly, Lyra's eyelids drooped, and her wrenching sobs petered off. She suppressed a yawn, and wiped her nose. Finally, the eleven-year-old relaxed into Harry's arms, and fell asleep.

Cedric stared dumbfounded, nearly speechless. "Great-grandmother was right." He mumbled.

Harry ignored him. "As far as I'm concerned," the wizard spoke softly, "I don't see anything else we need here on Guevara. Let's get back on course for Illium."

"What about our investigation?" Diggory challenged. "That girl is the only witness we've got."

"Why don't you join us?" Harry frowned. "We never got this poppet's last name, and there's no way I'm going to wake her up now."

"This colony was abducted by the Collectors." Jane interrupted. "We're planning on taking them out. Our mission and your investigation have similar goals." she waited a few seconds, before gesturing towards Lyra, and adding, "And our ship has a full medical bay, for any survivors we come across."

Cedric wavered, and then extended a hand. Jane stepped forwards, and shook it. "We'll combine our efforts?" Cedric questioned.

"Of course." she replied. "The sooner we deal with the Collectors, the more lives we save." Jane gestured towards the blackened, empty cityscape.

"Let's go." Harry announced, cradling Lyra. "We are currently on an extremely time-sensitive mission."

"By all means." Cedric replied courteously, and ushered his three companions towards Kasumi's waiting shuttle.

Harry beckoned towards the Normandy's ground crew, and made his own slow way to the extraction point. He cut a strange figure, walking back to the shuttle holding a sleeping eleven-year-old witch in his arms. The journey into the upper atmosphere was a quiet one, as nobody wished to disturb the sole survivor of the Collector attack.

Doctor Chakwas ambushed the team at the airlock, having scrambled a fast-response medical team to care for Lyra, still insensate in Harry's arms.

Harry directed the auror team to the crew deck, where they'd be permitted to set up a few wizarding tents while stationed on the Normandy.

"Just be warned, sir," one of the the four Aurors muttered, - _Cedric's subordinates had been calling Harry 'sir' ever since they first found out who he was_ \- "We won't be able to take part in this upcoming mission. We're all nursing injuries, some more severe than others. Add magical exhaustion to the list, and we'd just be a liability."

"That's alright." Harry replied, reluctant. "I'd rather have you Aurors at full strength, and even then, I don't know how well you'd adapt to my team of mundanes." The magicals spent a good few minutes in conversation, before Jane's voice rang out through the PA system.

"Attention, Normandy. This is Jane Shepard speaking. We're now back on our course for Illium. I recommend that all Combat Personnel get a few hours of rest- we'll be arriving in around six and a half hours. Expect combat." The speakers crackled, and then were silent.

An excited stillness lay heavy within the Normandy's bulkheads. To Harry, it seemed as if everyone was hunkering down for an apocalypse. Kasumi's novice ex-cerberus crew was still recovering from their nerve-wracking escape from Cerberus forces, and were barely settled into the crew quarters and living spaces.

Only Joker was truly at home aboard the Normandy, Harry mused. The pilot had adapted to the ship and all its quirks like a duck to water. While in transit or in a berth, the pilot's omni-tool was immersed in barely-intelligible technical readings and diagnostics, the likes of which Harry had rarely encountered. Fleetingly, Harry wondered if he'd be able to convince Joker to fine-tune engine outputs and eezo core alignment ratios on the designs for his own ships.

Then, slipping out of his armor, Harry showered, and made his way to the starboard observation deck. Thinking ahead, he set up a quick aversion ward on the door, so that he wouldn't be kept awake by his salarian crewmates trying to extract information about magic.

Yawning, he transfigured a massive four-poster bed, reminiscent of his dorm at Hogwarts. All cloth and metal, his creation rose out of the floor, looking for all the world as if it had been part of the ship's original design.

Slowly sinking under the covers, the wizard's eyelids drooped. The starfield outside the windows flickered, as the ship traveled. Pinpricks of light swirled, forming incomprehensible patterns against the inky backdrop of space.

Harry soon found himself noticing things, in lieu of counting sheep. First, the deep thrum that was audible from anywhere on the ship. That, he knew, was the eezo core, and assorted reactors. Then the almost silent, and infrequent hisses of vectoring engines, keeping the ship on track. And finally, distant conversation. The wizard's eyelids drooped further.

The murmur of voices washed over his senses. A chime, a bell, the tinkling of wine-glasses, forks, and knives. A piano played discordantly, as if a pet had just lay down atop the keys.

"I'm ready." spoke a child's voice. A flash of his own green eyes, and a glowing wand whirled past his eyes, along with other images. A tower, a cityscape, a scaled wing, unfurling. A vision of a black hole, from the far edge of the accretion disk. Something falling too fast through an atmosphere, trailing blazing heat and smoke. Orange energy, shot through with black. A strange Collector, large, ungainly, and glowing.

Another voice spoke, but this time, the speech was not a child's. Harry got the sense that something massive was circling him, waiting for the right moment to leap out, and make the kill. " _You dabble in matters beyond your understanding._ " the voice thundered. " _And it will be your downfall._ " the wizard felt a heavy wash of air, as if something had taken flight. More quietly, the same voice whispered. " _I'll grind your bones to dust beneath my feet._ "

Harry's invisibility cloak, the Hallow, materialized and surrounded him in blackness, and he was safe. Death's familiar voice, in his perpetual monotone, announced, " **THE COMPACT HAS BEEN BROKEN ONCE AGAIN. A WARNING HAS BEEN GIVEN. BE CAUTIOUS, MY MASTER. SOMETHING HELLISH PLOTS AGAINST YOU."**

 **...**

Harry awoke with a start. He sat up, and reached for his glasses. They were mostly a formality now, but he still wore them, as his current lenses carried a few unique ward-breaking charms.

The wizard stepped out of the comfort of his blankets, and cast a few cleaning charms on the previous day's clothing. Then, while dressing himself, Harry dispelled his bed, and removed the aversion ward on the door.

To his surprise, he noticed Jane Shepard asleep, fully dressed, on a couch at the other end of the room. She snored lightly. Harry could barely bring himself to wake her, but he knew that the Normandy would be arriving in the Tasale System soon.

So he transfigured a few ration bars into a full english breakfast, and wafted the concoction's aroma under the Commander's nose. She scowled, and opened her eyes a few seconds later.

"How'd you wind up down here?" Harry asked, knowing full well that she could have slept in the Captain's Quarters, at the top of the ship.

Blearily, Jane replied, "What?" in confusion. Moments later, though, she returned fully to the waking world, and spoke again. "I figured it would probably be best to sleep down here, instead of the Captain's Cabin." she explained. "According to EDI, the entire Captain's area of the ship can be jettisoned at the push of a button. I'd rather not sleep there, until that gets fixed."

Harry nodded. "So why here, then? You could have bunked in the Crew Quarters."

"I don't know any of Kasumi's people." Jane began. "And they're all ex-cerberus. I figured that I should probably avoid the group most likely to have a finger on the launch-the captain's-cabin-into-space button." She was silent for a few moments more, before adding, "And I know that wherever you decided to sleep is probably the safest spot aboard."

Harry smiled. "Then why didn't you join me?" he gestured towards his now-nonexistent bed.

"You were hoarding the blankets." Jane deadpanned.

" _Pulvis!_ " Harry cast. A pair of conjured pillows launched from his outstretched hand, and hit Jane with a _whuff_.

"Alright," Shepard menaced. "You're in for it now." She couldn't conceal a mischievous grin as she picked up one pillow, and engaged.

"Hold on, hold on. We can talk about this?" Harry backed up, laughing.

Not long afterwards, the air in the observation deck was filled with floating feathers, and covered in pillows. Harry and Jane sat side-by-side, watching the stars pass by through the haze of pillow stuffing.

Not much later, Joker's expected announcement rang through the Normandy, at an entirely unexpected volume.

"Hello, Normandy!" Joker yelled, entirely too happy at such an early hour. "This is your pilot speaking. This is your scheduled 'WAKE THE HELL UP!' announcement! Please bear in mind that you'll probably be encountering heavy combat in the near future, so you'll need to be fully armoured. Luckily for me, I'll be sitting back with a box of tissues, an omni-tool, and far too much free time for my own good. Envy me! And, of course, thank you for flying Moreau Airlines. Have a great day."

…

Thane Krios was nervous. He'd never admit it, but he'd been… Comfortable, if not happy, as an assassin. Now, here he was, practically in the lap of luxury, rubbing shoulders with diplomats and government officials. He'd done all that before, of course, but this time he wasn't being paid to kill them. He'd always accepted that some things were necessary, but all the corruption and all the graft just seemed to rub him the wrong way. Now that he was the one having to wade through it all, he wished he could just shoot through all the red tape, and be done with it.

As it landed, Thane stepped out of his shuttle, followed by Corval Skite, the Prime Minister of the newly-formed Drell Sovereignty.

Ever since the Drell homeworld's miraculous recovery, Drell from all corners of the galaxy had been streaming into the system. The makeshift spaceport that had been formed by the first few arrivals had quickly been overwhelmed, and confusion ran rife over all available communications channels, until Thane and Corval had taken charge. That was the event which had led to their presence here, Thane mused. Both Corval and himself had spent weeks keeping everything running smoothly, back on Rakhana.

Some days, they'd be running medical supplies from shelter to shelter, all the while marveling at the integrity of the hastily-fashioned buildings. Other days, they'd be using picks and shovels and bare hands to excavate shelters that had been buried decades ago, by dunes of nutrient-starved sand and dirt. And on some unfortunate occasions, they buried bodies. Thousands of them.

An incredible number of Drell survived the population crash, and the descent of their planet from a paradise to a barren waste. But a truly tragic number didn't make it. The planet's shelters were built as quickly as possible, and that meant cutting corners. One of the shelters Thane had found had caved in, simply because a few key supports had been missing. In another, every inhabitant of the shelter slowly suffocated when a vent had been installed incorrectly. If the laborer who'd put in the vent had even given a cursory glance at his work, he'd have seen the faulty seal. Over the course of a few decades, every single drell in that shelter had suffocated, as their oxygen rushed out of the miniscule leak.

For want of a nail, the war was lost, Thane supposed.

Thane and Corval had soon found themselves pushed into the metaphorical spotlight, as they found themselves doing all they could to keep their people going. That had soon brought elections, and a government.

A stunned Thane had been nominated, but had declined, passing leadership to Corval. At that point in time, he hadn't realized how important the job was to become. Even now, he considered it a stroke of luck that he hadn't accepted.

After all, he used to be an assassin. And an assassin, even a retired one, gaining close access to a head of state usually worried some very important people. The Shadow Broker, perhaps, if they had any particular influence, or any blackmail material on the official in question. The salarian Special Tasks Group, certainly. Thane knew they were aware of his past. Perhaps the Matriarchal Senate, as well. Although they were less observant. Thane was optimistic, believing that they were relatively unaware of his exploits. At least he certainly hoped so, because they were exactly the people Corval and he had arrived on Illium to see.

The two Drell were planning to introduce a motion to the Matriarchal Senate to formally recognize the Drell Sovereignty as an independent planetary governing body. The drell pair had already forged an alliance with the Hanar Illuminated Primacy, which was so delighted for the Drell that they delivered a few thousand automated mining drones to Rakhana, free-of-charge.

In a few hours' time, Corval was scheduled to give an address at the Matriarchal Senate's opening session. Thane planned to accompany him, acting (unknown to all but himself) as a bodyguard. He'd returned to his hotel in order to plan his protective detail in relative secrecy.

As of late, Thane's contacts had been making some noise about a bunch of heavy-hitters and big names being hired for an assassination. And ever since, the drell had been on edge, and people close to him had begun to take notice. Corval had noticed his unusual skittishness, and Thane's wife, Irikah, had noted that he seemed preoccupied with something. They seemed to think that he was just nervous to be up in front of the Matriarchal Senate, but Thane knew it was more than just stage fright.

Because every single assassin was sent straight to Illium.

Thane felt exposed, as he rode the elevator up to his floor. The elevator's glass wall, which looked out into the heart of the Nos Astra Spaceport, left him a perfect target for any decent sniper.

Off in the distance, the heavy thunderclouds that made Illium's wet season famous gathered, towering miles into the sky. Massive thunderheads reached into ever thinner air, grey and looming. Brief flashes of distant lightning illuminated the clouds. Soon, the scent of ozone and falling rain would carry with the winds.

A few tense moments later, the Drell reached his floor. He stepped hurriedly through the opening doors, and murmured a near-silent prayer of thanks. He walked through the corridors, effortly spotting his room number.

His omni-tool unlocked the door, and he stepped through. Then he froze. One hand went to the gun at his hip.

A moment passed.

Then another.

Finally, Thane strode forwards, drew his weapon, and examined the nondescript briefcase on his coffee-table. He walked around it, using his omni-tool to scan its every detail. Seconds later, the scan's results returned. There was no explosive material, nothing toxic, nothing even remotely extraordinary. Thane considered for a few moments, before he moved behind the couch opposite the coffee table. It would give him (at least) marginal cover, if the briefcase was simply a cleverly-concealed grenade.

After hunkering down behind the couch, and covering his ears, Thane waved his omni-tool, and opened the briefcase.

He felt extremely silly a moment later, when absolutely nothing out of the ordinary occurred. Sitting up, he stuck his head out of cover, and stared at the now-open briefcase. To his surprise, it was empty, save for a pair of gloves, and a small card. He scanned the contents of the case again, for good measure.

Picking up the gloves, he noticed that they were made in a drell-specific style- the middle and ring fingers were merged. They really were nice gloves, Thane thought.

And then there was a muted flash of light, and the gloves disappeared. The drell jumped, then blinked a few times in surprise, reining in his reflexes. He took a few moments to calm his racing heartbeat. A few minutes later, he stalked back over to the briefcase, and pulled out the card.

It was blank on one side, but the other held some writing, and two symbols that anyone in the intelligence community would immediately recognize. One was the line, circle, and triangle logo of Mortis Solutions, and the other was the three-pointed symbol of the Shadow Broker.

Looking more closely at the writing underneath the symbols, Thane's eyes widened.

" _Dear Mr. Krios:_

 _I'd like to foster a mutually beneficial relationship. To that end, I've enclosed a file printed on paper in a false bottom of the briefcase this message arrived in. It contains information on a significant number of mercenaries and Cerberus troops, all of whom are contracted to capture, kill, or neutralize the entire Matriarchal Senate, you and your delegation included. They plan to move later tonight._

 _Now please bring your middle finger and thumb together._

 _Good hunting."_

Thane's thoughts whirled. He had more work cut out for himself than he'd expected. And what could the message possibly mean, by asking him to touch his thumb and middle finger together? On a hunch, he did so, and jumped once again in surprise. One hand reached up to examine the back of his head. For some strange reason, it had felt as if someone had cracked an egg on him.

And then the drell realized that he was invisible. This realization was shortly followed by a brief and highly undignified moment of silent panic, before Thane touched his two fingers together again, and became visible once more. He sighed audibly in relief. Then, testing his luck, he poked the two fingers together again- and nothing happened. He tried once more, this time focusing his will on the task, and watched the invisibility ripple up his arm like a wave, hiding him from sight.

"Perhaps-." Thane mumbled, speaking to himself. The room was silent. The drell materialized with a snap of his fingers. A predatory grin passed fleetingly across his face.

This was going to be fun.

...…

"Shepard," EDI began, voice ringing clearly through the Briefing Room's speakers. "I'm detecting an encrypted signal being broadcast across all civilian channels."

"Cerberus?" Jane queried.

"No." the AI actually sounded confused. "Not Cerberus. The signal is Quarian."

"Quarian." Harry mused. "That's odd."

"Definitely." Shepard added. "Can you break the encryption?"

"I already have, Commander." EDI responded. "The signal is a message for you."

"Me?" Jane was stunned. "What could the quarians want with me?"

"I'll play the message, Commander?"

"Sure."

" _Commander Jane Shepard- I am Admiral Rael'Zorah. If you're hearing this, please make your way to the set of coordinates included at the end of this broadcast._

 _I command a quarian frigate, and I've got a friend of yours aboard. Tali'Zorah's mission from the Admiralty Board is to give you whatever aid she can. As quarian ships are discouraged from being in Illium's airspace, we've shut off all systems but communications and life-support. This message is clearly encrypted, and is being broadcast through a series of disposable signal beacons set on a crash course for the star Tasale. It should reach you as the message passes through anti-malware systems installed on your E-mail account. If not… Well, if not, you won't be hearing this in the first place. Keelah Se'lai."_

A _ping_ signalled that Shepard had received a message on her omni-tool. Opening it, she saw a copy of the Quarian signal.

"Jeff?" She questioned. "This is legitimate. Could you-"

"Already on the way." Joker's voice interrupted, playing through the briefing room's speakers.

"Miranda-" Jane pulled the woman aside, as the rest of the ground team plodded off towards the armory, "-bear in mind, the Illusive Man's orders will be arriving within the next few hours. Thankfully, Kasumi and her team scrambled Timmy's quantum-entangled-comms when she left. So we've still got a bit of a head-start."

"Yeah." Miranda sighed. "I'm just a bit wound up right now." her posture slumped, but her eyes burned more fiercely. "Shepard- We have to find my sister before the Illusive Man does."

"Of course." Jane replied. "We can do this."

…

"Shepard!" Tali called, staring at Jane. "It's so great to see you!" she embraced the woman in a hug, before pulling back. "Don't you ever die again, you hear me?" Then she realized the absurdity of her statement, and giggled.

"I'll do my best." Jane replied with a smile. "And it's great to see you as well. What are you up to?"

"Well," Tali wrung her hands, "I was trying to find you.."

"What does the Migrant Fleet want with little old me?" Shepard questioned. "Your message said that you were just helping me out. What's the deal?"

"I'm supposed to serve as a messenger," Tali explained, "and the Admirals figured that you-" she pointed at Harry, "would be wherever Shepard was. So they figured that they'd be able to alert both of you at the same time, if they could find you. I just happened to get a message from a contact of mine on Omega, who said they'd seen Harry boarding a ship bound for Illium."

"You have contacts now?" Liara asked. The sides of her mouth twitched upwards, forming into a grin. "When did you get 'contacts'?"

"That actually ties into my main task here." Tali fidgeted. "The fleet wanted me to give you all some information. Well, you too specifically, but-"

"Tali?" Jane interrupted, with a concerned tone. "What happened? Is everything alright?"

"Keelah, I'm babbling." Tali cursed. "Yes, everything is wonderful. The admirals wanted me to tell you that we finally accepted the Geth peace offering."

"Fucking finally!" Harry yelled, pumping his fist in the air. Crewmates around him jumped in surprise, and backed away. "What the hell took them so long?"

"Daro'Xen Vas Moreh." Tali replied, audibly disgruntled. "She was the loudest voice against peace, louder even than Han'Gerrel." She collected her thoughts, composing herself. "She was an incredibly… outspoken admiral, and not well liked. She represented an incredibly small faction of Quarians. So when she had an accident involving a suit rupture in a liveship's waste treatment plant, nobody really paid too much attention."

"Murder?" Harry asked. The smile vanished from his face.

"I don't know." Tali replied, wringing her hands again. "I feel a bit guilty for saying it, but everything is just… So much easier, now that she's gone. Runs more smoothly. And the quarian people are back on Rannoch."

"Sometimes," Harry muttered, "Things just work out." he paused. "I try not to question it too much."

"Yeah." sighed Tali. "Well either way, my father and auntie Raan are here to give an address to the Matriarchal Senate and the Council. They plans to inform them of our treaty with the Geth, and ask for an embassy on the Citadel."

"Good luck." Shepard spoke up, sounding genuine.

"Hmm." Harry pulled out his omni-tool. "You'd be right after the Drell delegation, right?"

"Yes, that's correct." Tali answered. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes, actually." Harry announced, holding up a tablet. "Three possible assassination attempts." There was a collective intake of breath. "All Cerberus," The wizard explained. "One for the Matriarchal Senate convoy, one for the Councilors, and one attempt for all the petitioners. That includes your delegation, Tali."

"Bosh'tets!" the quarian cursed. "We'll meet up later. I need to alert the Admirals."

"We'll be stopping those assassins, right?" Jane stared at Harry.

"Of course!" the wizard replied, aggrieved. "I've got a couple plans. I've already made a… tentative ally in the Drell delegation. He's one of the best."

"And what about my sister?" Miranda spoke up. "I don't mean to sound crass, but delegating resources to preventing assassination attempts means pulling them from the search for my sister."

"I'm running a few searches through facial-recognition software right now." Harry announced. "I'm pretty sure I'll get her location in the next hour."

"Why so long?" Miranda questioned.

Harry stared. "How many people do you think live on Illium?" he asked, curious.

"Well," Miranda pulled up some information on her omni-tool. "According to last year's census, there's a little more than three billion people on Illium."

"Ah." the wizard nodded in understanding. "That number is off by about a hundred million." There was a confused silence, before Jane spoke one word.

"How?"

"Illium authorities don't count indentured slaves as people." He answered. "It gives the planetary governing body a significant decrease in annual taxes due to the Asari government, which taxes 'indentured labor' heavily."

"You can't be serious." Miranda mumbled. "Something like that would have been noticed and accounted for by now."

"Not at all." the wizard confirmed. "It's a regular money-factory. Almost all the extra cash goes into the pockets of everyone and anyone in a position to blow the proverbial whistle. The rest just get pocketed by the authorities."

"That isn't possible." Jane scoffed, incredulous. Then she reconsidered. "Alright, if there's anything I've learned, it's that graft and politics vastly outweigh common sense. So how'd you figure out- all of that?" she made a vague gesture with one arm.

"I'm getting about ten or fifteen percent of that money." the wizard grinned. "Probably closer to twelve, but I'm estimating, here."

"You're making money off of slavery?" Miranda asked, horrified. "But you've got a Star of Terra. You were one of the 'Lions of Elysium'. You're a hero to every human in the galaxy. How could you-" she was speechless.

"Stop." Harry interrupted, frowning. "Illium laws on indentured servitude are incredibly strict on mistreatment and abuse. I'm just about the only reason why those laws exist."

"What do you mean?" Mordin queried, trying to put the pieces together. "How could you possibly have so much influence?" he considered. "And on an Asari world, no less?"

"Good question." the wizard's frown disappeared. The corners of his mouth turned upwards, forming an almost undetectable smile."Maybe I'll tell you, one day."

The conversation devolved from there, into topics of lesser import, as worried crewmembers tried to pass the time until the Normandy arrived at the docking stations on Illium's orbital spaceport.

"Commander?" Joker's voice intruded on the nervous buzz of conversation in the briefing room. "We've got a bit of a problem. So, the Matriarchal Council is meeting here on Illium, right?" he explained. "And the Council is here, as well. They left the Citadel, for once. But because of that, they've tightened security. Any ship larger than a frigate isn't allowed within five-hundred miles of Nos Astra spaceport, and everyone else has to check in with Illium Authorities on the main orbital platform before traveling planetside."

"Explain." Miranda ordered, voice freezing.

"Um," Joker cringed, "There's a seven-hour wait for ground clearance, even though we've got 'Favored Access' because one of the Senators' kids is aboard."

All eyes in the room turned towards Liara. "Actually, both my parents are part of the Matriarchal Senate." she mumbled, blushing. A wave of surprised and congratulatory murmurs filled the room, before attentions turned back to the matter at hand.

"Before you say it," Joker cut Shepard off, "Just because we have a stealth cruiser does not mean we can just fly unchallenged into Illium's airspace. We'd get shot down in seconds."

"But-" Jane started, in a bemused tone.

"Don't even think about it." Joker admonished with a laugh. "Illium's orbital defense grid is almost as good as Earth's, and they both use optical detection as well as thermal. We'd be spotted as soon as we started moving. I don't think I could get through if this ship was a quarter of its size."

"I can get us to the surface." Harry announced. "We've got two options, really. I can just magic us down." he waved one hand. "That's option one. That would take some time, and wouldn't be comfortable in the least. Or, I could actually use my clearance here, and just get security to wave us through."

"Graft and politics vastly outweigh common sense." Jane mumbled again, before nodding. "Alright. Let's take option two." Then to the rest of the team, "If you haven't already done so, armor up, and prepare for combat. We're in a hurry, people! This mission is time-sensitive!" her voice softened. "And make sure you've got at least decent-looking forgeries of licences for all your guns." she joked. Kasumi laughed a little harder than necessary, as she began frantically tapping her omni-tool. A spectre-grade pistol hung innocently on the thief's hip.

Everyone taking part in the Illium excursion quickly donned their helmets and secured their armor. The hiss of airtight seals forming and being broken filled the briefing room, along with the near-silent _whirr_ of rebreathers and oxygen filtration systems.

The ground team disembarked from the Normandy in a chaotic tide of polished armor and shining weaponry of every imaginable make and model. As they stepped out of the airlock into the docking area of the spaceport, the few harried-looking security guards on duty immediately stopped everything they were doing, and stared.

Skipping the massive lines at a jog, Harry guided the combat team towards the arrivals gate. A few of the more frustrated aliens waiting in line grumbled and glared, but most were cowed by the obvious armaments sported by the Normandy's crew.

The three asari agents at the customs office were frightened by the oncoming wall of armor, as evidenced by the silent alarm one of them activated as soon as the group rounded the corner.

Harry stepped up to the desk, and in a calm voice, announced, "I need to get down to the surface. It's a matter of galactic security."

"If you knew the number of times I hear that every day…" one asari tried for some levity. "Could I see your access codes?" the other queried. "Security clearances, visas, passports?"

Wordlessly, Harry held up an omni-tool, transferring data. A moment passed, then two. Finally, the asari's eyes widened, and she quickly pushed a button on her desk, and spoke into a microphone. "False alarm. Authorization codes passed all tests. They're friendly." Then, looking up at Harry, the alien squeaked, "Enjoy your stay on Illium!" Her cheeks darkened into a deeper blue, signalling embarrassment.

Behind his helmet's visor, Harry raised his eyebrows, as the ground crew of the SR2 Normandy was directed to the latest shuttle arriving to ferry passengers to the surface.

The first few minutes of the ride were silent, until Jane couldn't hold in her curiousity.

"Harry," she asked, voice playing over the squad's helmet-only communications network, "Whose access codes got us past that checkpoint?" Heads turned in his direction as he responded.

"They're mine, actually." he fidgeted. "The planetary governess gave them to me about a decade ago, give or take."

"The planetary governess of _Illium?_ " Liara's incredulous tone rang out. "Matriarch Vellis is a notorious miser. What did you _do?_ "

"I saved her life-" the wizard replied, terse.

"Still," Liara interrupted.

"Twice." Harry added. "And if everything goes well, this will be the third time. She's a Senator."

"Oh." The asari stared into her lap, embarrassed.

…

The journey down to the planet's surface was smooth, if a bit tense. An automatic and official-sounding apology played through the shuttle's speakers for most of the way down, along with a proud announcement about the convention of the Matriarchal Senate.

Halfway down, EDI spoke quickly through the team's communications channel. "I'm detecting Cerberus surface-to-air supersonic missile batteries scanning Nos Astra's airspace, Shepard."

"Shouldn't Illium Police have done something about that?" Jane's fingers beat a pattern on her thigh, producing a loud tapping against her armor. "I'm not too familiar with Illium's security procedure, but-"

"They're heavily disguised." EDI added. "I'm only aware of their existence because I'm keyed into Cerberus communications networks planetwide."

"Can you hack into the missile batteries? Render them inoperable, somehow?"

"Not without loss of civilian life." A moment later, "Shepard, the batteries are hidden inside balcony rooms in a trio of mega-hotels. I'm locked out of guidance systems, and ramming air-cars into the rooms themselves could result in civilian casualties."

"Damn." Shepard cursed, closing her hand into a fist. "How much time until the Matriarchal Senate convenes?"

"Four hours remain until the planned start-time on the Senate's agenda." EDI announced.

"So we've got three hours to find Oriana, and stop the Senate shuttle-convoy from leaving the Governor's manse." Jane paused. "How many missiles are we talking?"

"Three missile-batteries, each with twenty missiles makes sixty." After EDI's pronouncement, there was silence. "And I am unaware of how much ordnance is stored alongside each missile-battery. It is possible that Cerberus operatives will simply reload after firing."

"That could do some damage." Jane mumbled. "Alright. EDI, can you jam their targeting systems?"

"Yes, but I would need local access to the networks the batteries are transmitting on." EDI replied. "You'd have to place a transmitter-beacon within thirty or forty feet of the missile-batteries themselves."

"Understood." Jane sighed. Her eyes settled on Harry, and her face lit up at his smile. "You've got something?" she asked.

"Yeah-" the wizard's smile grew. "I've found Oriana."

Miranda's head spun towards him. "Where is she?" her voice demanded.

"She's heading towards the Tel'Amarr shuttle-port, about fifty miles north. I've commandeered our shuttle, and altered our heading. We should be arriving at the terminal at Tel'Amarr in less than fifteen minutes." He paused, and his smile disappeared. "She's being chased." he added, with a scowl.

"Cerberus?" Miranda asked, with a wince.

"Kai Leng." Harry spat. "And-" he held up his omni-tool, displaying a still picture from a security camera. "And you, Jane."

"What?" Shepard's normal unflappability disappeared, as her jaw dropped.

"Bloody hell, they actually did it!" Miranda groaned, cursing fluently. "They cloned you, Shepard, but the clone was stolen. Now it looks like they've got their hands back on the clone."

"A clone?" Jane asked, still half-skeptical, despite the evidence in front of her. "I can deal with a clone." she muttered to herself, regaining an air of professionalism.

"I know." Harry assured her. "But I'm thinking Kai Leng is the bigger threat. We don't know what he's capable of, and he's a psychopath. I don't want to risk civilians any more than you do."

"I- Yeah." Jane confirmed. "How do we plan to extract Oriana?"

"She's with her adopted family." Harry interjected. "That's going to severely complicate extraction."

"Damn." Miranda closed her eyes in thought. "I could try to convince her." she suggested. "I'm the only physical proof that Oriana is a clone."

"Okay." Shepard announced. "Garrus, Kasumi, Jacob, Liara, Tali, Mordin, you're with me." she ordered. "Miranda and Harry, you're extracting Oriana and her family."

"But I-" Harry protested.

"Can it. You're on protection detail for Oriana and Miranda." Shepard cut him off. "If Cerberus has gotten their shit together already, they'll have a small army waiting to ambush our VIP."

"Understood." the wizard replied. Then he switched communications channels so his voice only transmitted to Jane's helmet. "Be careful." he whispered, bowing his head. "I don't want to lose you again." the wizard decreed, determination suffusing his voice.

Jane spun to stare at him, eyes twinkling. Harry stared back. Something invisible passed between the wizard and the warrior. A well of confused emotion rose up in Jane's chest, before resolving itself into a buzzing sense of contentedness utterly unsuited for a soldier about to step into what could be a bloodbath.

"You won't lose me." she replied, after setting her own communications to a private setting. "Not now, and maybe not ever."

Then Shepard reset her comms, and was all business as the shuttle reached her drop-off point. "This is our stop." she said, jumping to the ground outside the shuttle. "Harry, Miranda, you're up next. Watch out for undercover operatives."

And then the door slid closed, and EDI (in control of the shuttle's systems) launched Harry and Miranda back into their seats, as the shuttle's engines blazed to life once again.

Miranda couldn't help but feel a little uneasy watching the shuttle move without anyone in the pilot's seat.

"We are being targeted by one of the Cerberus missile batteries!" EDI suddenly announced, as the shuttle dove downwards, rapidly picking up speed. Shuddering wildly, the craft changed direction again, like a demented roller-coaster. "I should be able to make a pass over the shuttle-port's Arrivals gate, but you'll have to jump!" the vehicle's intercom erupted in EDI's voice, pouring static.

Seconds later, the shuttle's side door opened with a rush of air, sucking unsecured pamphlets and papers out into the open air.

"Let's go!" Harry yelled, ushering for Miranda to lead the way.

"I can't believe I'm doing this!" her voice echoed through the radio in the wizard's helmet, as she took a running leap into the open air. Harry followed a split-second later.

The wind rushed through the external audio feed on Harry's helmet with a static hiss, as he assumed a spread-eagled position. Halfway to the ground, there was a thunderous _**BOOM**_ as the shuttle they'd arrived on exploded in a ball of light and sound.

"It appears that you'll need to find an alternate method of extraction for the three VIPs." EDI announced, voice tinged with regret. "I was unable to avoid all four missiles."

"I can find another method of transport." Harry replied. "But first we need to find and defend Oriana and her family."

The two accidental skydivers flared their biotics, lowering their mass enough to land lightly on one of Tel'Amarr shuttle-port's landing-pads. Already, the noise of staccato gunshots and intermittent explosions rose from the other side of the spaceport, where Jane and her group had landed.

As if sensing his thoughts, EDI spoke up. "While Shepard and her team are experiencing heavier Cerberus resistance than they anticipated, they seem to be winning." A few seconds later, a blinking dot appeared on Harry's visor.

"EDI?" the wizard queried, reproachful. "What's this?"

"I've found Oriana Lawson's location with some of the facility's security cameras, and then placed a waypoint on her group." EDI sounded excited. "All you need to do is head towards the blinking marker."

"You're a lifesaver." Miranda replied, taking off running. Harry quickly caught up to her, as the pair sprinted past startled civilians and crowds. A few asari police officers tried to follow, but stopped when Harry held up his omni-tool and broadcast a brief message.

"Your clearance again?" Miranda asked, breathing lightly.

"No-" Harry vaulted a cart of luggage, "They think I'm a Spectre."

"But-"

"They think I'm acting on behalf of a spectre, at least." the wizard corrected himself. "I've got the codes and everything."

A few moments later, Miranda cursed, and stopped. "They're on the floor below us!" she called out. She spun around, looking for a stairwell.

"Wait just a second." Harry raised one hand. " _Spectus!_ " he murmured, and the floor below him shimmered. Suddenly, it was almost transparent, like a sheet of glass. A squad of heavily-armored figures became visible, taking cover behind a raised stone sculpture almost directly beneath him, their guns raised and spitting flames.

"Cerberus!" Miranda cursed, hands clenched into fists. "No, no!"

At the far end of the hall, three civilians - _Oriana and her parents_ \- had taken cover behind a heavy wooden desk, while an injured Asari police officer snapped off a few potshots with a small pistol from behind a pillar. An orange-armoured-form raised a rifle, and pulled the trigger. The shot hit the asari in the chest, knocking her into a wall. Falling to the floor, the officer made no move to get up.

Harry stepped forwards, over the glass-like floor, until he stood directly above the hostile Cerberus troopers. With a whisper of magic, the floor changed back to it's regular coloration, once more becoming opaque. A muttered casting of a " _Homonium Revelio!_ " on his visor illuminated every warm body with a pulse in red light, even through the floor.

"Get ready!" Harry called out, while grasping his pistol's handle. Pointing one arm directly downwards, he summoned up his magic, and released a spell.

" _Bombarda!_ " he whispered, and the floor shattered in a thundering spray of dust, sheetrock, tile, and glass.

….

Nothing about this day was going the way it should have, mused Oriana. She was supposed to be going to Earth with her parents as a sort of finished-with-college gift to herself. She certainly didn't think that running from goons with military-grade guns and armor was a part of the plan.

She watched in detached horror from around the desk as hostile figures charged down the hallway, casually gunning down the nice officer who'd apologetically explained that her flight was delayed by a sabotaged engine.

And then the ceiling exploded.

The floor shook as stifling dust engulfed the hallway. Rubble and concrete clattered onto the floor, in a waterfall of metal and shattered stone. Oriana and her father choked, coughing as they tried to inhale. Her - _adopted_ \- mother had already put a piece of cloth over her nose and mouth, keeping herself breathing relatively well. The armoured hostiles' distorted voices rang out in panicked tones, and among the chaos, Oriana heard one of them call out her own name. Then a few rapid flashes of gunfire and muted - _to her damaged ears_ \- gunshots split the air. Something glowed orange, igniting with a crackle, and then there was a hiss, like red-hot metal being quenched in water. The smell of burning meat hit her nostrils, and suddenly, Oriana wanted to throw up.

One of the distorted voices screamed in agony.

That same voice was cut off mid-scream.

And then there was silence.

Oriana didn't even jump in surprise, as some rubble from the floor above pattered down to the floor. A voice, normal this time, not distorted, said something that sounded like ' _repair_ ', and then everything started to shift.

Dust began to _pull itself off of her clothes._ Oriana blinked, then blinked again. Yes, that was exactly what was happening. Pebbles and pieces of shattered concrete on the floor began to tremble, as if being pulled towards a singularity. There was a clicking noise, as pieces of tile began to reassemble themselves on the floor where gunshots had missed the police officer. Chunks of the room's marble pillars flew back into place, and the sheetrock dust that had filled the air condensed into the ceiling, where it had covered some unsightly concrete.

Somebody said another word, muffled by all the noise as the hallway _repaired itself_ , and suddenly the 'burnt flesh' scent in the air disappeared, to be replace by a cool minty toothpaste-smell.

And then the dust was finally clear.

A male figure in black armor stood in the middle of the hall, omni-blade still extended. Orange-and-white-armored bodies surrounded him, splayed across the floor. A blackish-brownish substance covered the tip of the glowing knife, and fell to the ground as the flash-forged weapon disintegrated.

Oriana noticed a woman kneeling by the fallen asari, administering medi-gel. She stood, and Oriana's eyes focused on her face. She had taken off her helmet, revealing nearly the same image that Oriana saw every morning in the mirror, just a few years older.

"Your name is Oriana Lawson." the woman proclaimed in the same I-know-everything-tone that Oriana herself used whenever she felt nervous. "You're my sister. You and I- We're biologically identical. Clones of the same base genome, modified and twisted to-" the woman snarled, " _perfection._ " there was a frozen silence, before the woman quickly - _and nervously, Oriana noticed_ -added, "I'm Miranda Lawson. It's my fault you were in this mess to begin with, and it's nice to meet you."

"And by the way," spoke the male figure, "You're safe now."

…


	14. Attack on Illium

"So they came after me because-"

"Our biological father was a textbook ego-maniac who wanted to make a dynasty. Something perfect. Something that would last the rest of time immemorial." Miranda replied, wringing her hands. "But he couldn't see that people weren't statistics, or numbers."

"And you saved me from him?" Oriana asked, trying to wrap her head around the whole situation.

"I-" Miranda sighed. "Yeah."

"Then all I can say is 'thank you.' From the bottom of my heart." Oriana reached out, and enclosed her sister in a tight hug, despite the armor plates and not-quite-dull edges. "You can repay me by letting me get to know you." she joked, smiling wide. "Surely there's more to you than the whole 'tentative older sister' role. You're wearing combat armor- wanna tell me how you learned to use it?"

"I... can't." Miranda sighed, staring plaintively at Harry. "I'm on a mission."

"Bullshit." Harry grinned, removing his own helmet. "You stay with your sister, and get to know her and her family. I've called in some security to keep you guys safe. They should be arriving soon."

As if on que, a massive salarian in heavy armor rounded the corner at speed, followed by two salarians, both armed and armored.

"Tazzik! Good to see you again." Harry greeted the approaching salarian. "The boss-" the wizard winked at Miranda-"wants these VIPs extracted to the Penthouse. I'm on exfiltration, you're on guard duty." he added, before looking at the two shorter aliens. "Spectre Jondum Bau, Specialist Meirin Sallics. I trust that everything is going well?"

The alien that Harry called 'Jondum Bau' stared in surprise, as Tazzik spun around, raising his weapon.

"He's a Spectre?" Tazzik mumbled. "Shit."

"Fuck!" Bau yelled. Oriana started laughing. "You always manage to see through my disguises…" the salarian almost pouted.

"Do all salarians use human expletives?" Oriana managed, between her laughter.

"Most of them do, actually." Meirin muttered. Oriana only laughed harder.

"Guns down." Harry warned everyone, while pointedly gesturing towards Tazzik.

"Harry Potter. It's certainly been a while." Bau announced. "Last time we met, you were flying us out of the blast zone of an improvised warhead on Virmire."

There was a tense pause, as Tazzik and the Spectre examined each other.

"He's friendly." the wizard said to Tazzik. "That's the phrase Bau uses to tell me that he's not on official business."

"So have you really..." The massive salarian began, clearly curious.

"Yes, I really flew Bau and the rest of an STG infiltration team out of the blast zone of a nuclear warhead." Harry confirmed.

"That gunship of yours really is impressive." Jondum Bau added. "I don't suppose I could examine it again?" he grinned hopefully.

"Not unless you want plausible deniability." the wizard replied. "I'm about to use it to do some possibly dangerous things that could _hypothetically_ make the Council and the entire Matriarchal Senate very worried."  
"Oh, hell. You're about to complicate my day job, aren't you?" Bau replied.

"I'm going to avert a _hypothetical_ assassination attempt." Harry grinned. Bau groaned.

"Why hasn't Spaceport Security arrived yet?" Miranda interjected.

"Spectre authorization." Bau waved a hand. "I'm 'investigating'." he air-quoted. "They'll be fine with leaving this entire wing empty for an hour or so, now that the officer over there is stabilized."

"Alright. There's a landing pad this way." Harry gestured, and beckoned for everyone to follow him. Oriana's adopted parents followed slowly, still trying to process everything. Clearly, the Lawson sisters' genetic perfection extended to more than just physical attributes, as they were already engaged in a quiet convesation.

Soon, the group was hurrying down another hallway towards one of the many landing areas. Eventually, they passed a series of windows, and Harry pointed out his ride.

"Before you say anything," the Spectre interjected, "I don't want to know how you got a gunship this size past the orbital defense screens."

"Can we trust the Spectre?" Tazzik suddenly asked, making sure everyone heard him. "I don't think we should be taking a Council spy to a safe-house."

"We won't be taking him to a safe-house. You'll be getting out at a 'rented apartment.' I'll be dropping him off somewhere else." Harry stated. "And you can trust that he'll have to tell anything incriminating to the Council, if they ask." the wizard explained. "He's a good friend of mine, and an even better asset to have on call. The trick is that you don't tell him anything incriminating."

"Do you trust him?" the burly salarian reiterated. "Will he be a liability?"

"I trust him with my life." Harry replied. "Honestly. We've got a few areas that both of us refuse to talk to each other about. Outside of those few areas, he and I help each other."

"What do you mean?" Tazzik queried, suspicious.

"I don't talk to him about most of the jobs I take, I don't tell him who hires me, and I don't tell him anything that will incriminate me, my friends, or my allies." the wizard explained. "He won't tell me state secrets, other Spectres' current investigations, identities of living Spectres, and how some Spectres got selected. Outside of that? We share information over drinks every couple months. He helps me with my own investigations, and I help him with his. Sometimes I lend a pair of hands, and sometimes he does. We're friends. That's what friends do."

"Harry?" Miranda whispered, tentative. "Are you sure you want to share that sort of information in front of civilians?" she gestured towards Oriana and her adoptive parents.

"Hey!" Oriana interjected.

"He parents probably can't hear this conversation too well," Harry explained, "because I think their ears are still ringing up a storm. And Oriana can handle herself. She's a biotic too, you know." he added. And then the Lawson sisters were embroiled in a whispered discussion, filled with smiles and delight.

And then, moments later, it seemed- the group was walking out onto the landing pad, where an angular gunship idled, humming softly.

"There she is." Harry gestured expansively. "All aboard!" the hatch opened as he strode forwards, stepping into the cockpit. Bau took the copilot's seat, while Tazzik, Meirin, Miranda, and the rest moved into the troop-transport section of the craft.

With the push of a button and a loud whoosh, Harry took off. The gunship hovered over the landing pad for a half-second, before connecting to traffic control, and activating afterburners. Trailing blue flame, the craft launched itself through the air towards a blinking waypoint atop one of Ilium's taller buildings.

Moments later, and with an expert twist, Harry spun the gunship around, landing on the penthouse's landing pad. Only slightly too large, the gunship's nose and tail protruded slightly over the edge of the building. "Tazzik, Meirin, you're on guard duty. Everything is authorized, except for WMDs. Miranda here will be supervising."

"That's a lot of leeway." the smaller salarian replied. "What are our options?"

"There's a terminal in the walk-in closet just inside the master bedroom." Harry spoke, grinning. "That's where you'll see the control panel for the Panic Room elevator, as well as the security mechs, automated turrets, and external GARDIAN lasers. The armory is hidden in the big wooden wardrobe, and there's an 'ornamental' escape pod next to the panic room's roof exit. If you really need to bug out, it's airtight, and capable of single-stage-to-orbit flight. All you have to do is hop in, and push the big red button."

Miranda raised her eyebrows. "You've prepared well." She sounded surprised. Harry nodded his assent.

"Tazzik-" Harry began, "this time we're on a civilian world. This won't be another-"

"-Korlus." the massive salarian finished Harry's sentence. "I know. Since there's an actual civilized population here, I can't call in orbital bombardment." He seemed genuinely saddened by that turn of events.

Miranda's eyebrows rose higher still.

"I plan to drop off Bau somewhere useful, then pick up Shepard and co." Harry explained. "Then we're heading for Nos Astra Spaceport, where the Matriarchal Senate convoy is supposed to start."

"Harry-" Miranda looked him in the eyes. "Good luck."

"You too." he replied. "If we need backup, I won't hesitate to call."

Harry waved goodbye as the the hatch slid shut. The gunship took off, whisper-silent. Instead of trailing blue flame like it had when traveling towards the penthouse, it cloaked, disappearing from the visible spectrum. And then it was gone.

Everyone stared for a few silent seconds.

Silent, at least, until Oriana practically squealed in excitement, and dragged her sister off to ask her some pointed questions about Harry.

….

Jane couldn't stop grinning. She'd just gotten off the shuttle, and she already knew this would be an issue.

It was a fairly insignificant problem, but the symptoms- _Her thoughts drifted back to Harry's face, and the sexy smirk he wore when laying waste to something_ \- ...The symptoms would definitely prove to be a distraction in a fight. Jane marshalled her emotions, calmed herself- and immediately started grinning again. "Ah, fuck." she mumbled.

There was an explosion over the other side of the facility. She looked up, and watched the magnificent fireball.

"Harry and Miss Lawson exited the vehicle before its destruction." EDI transmitted through her earpiece. "Do not worry. They are both more than capable of handling themselves."

"Wonderful, EDI." Jane replied absently. "So where's Kai Leng?"

"Tracking. Please proceed to this waypoint with all possible speed."

"The security office?"

"Yes." the AI confirmed. "His plan appears to include the removal of all security footage, as well as purging the spaceport's records of Oriana Lawson's existence."

"What about my clone?"

"She appears to be following Kai Leng, and transmissions show that she's working closely with him. It is likely that you may have to use force to subdue her."

"That might not be an option." Garrus muttered. "Shepard, will you…"

"If it comes down to it," Jane swallowed. "I can deal with her."

"Good. That's all you need." Jacob interjected. "That's all we're asking."

"Alright." Shepard shook off the thoughts rushing through her brain, and took off running. "Let's go."

Shepard and her team rounded a corner, and came face-to-face with Kai Leng, Shepard's clone, and a squad of Cerberus Phantoms. Both parties were surprised, but Shepard's team reacted first. Too close to find cover, Garrus whipped up his rifle, and vaporized most of Leng's shields with a burst of high-power gunfire. Mordin's overload took care of the rest of the assassin's barriers, while Tali tossed a handful of proximity mines into the ranks of the squad of phantoms. Her other hand gripped the handle of a hungry-looking shotgun, which she brought to bear with a roar. Liara's singularity lifted a few of the phantoms into the air, where Jacob's warp caused it to explode with a bang.

Liara unleashed her own biotics, but noticed a strange color to Jane's singularity. She'd never seen biotics like that. It appeared that Jane Shepard was unique.

From Shepard's palm emerged a blue singularity, shot through with jagged gold energy as if infused with lightning. It impacted Kai Leng barely a quarter-second after Mordin's overload vaporized his shields. The singularity lifted the assassin into the air, as if he was no longer under gravity's effects.

Then Shepard _charged._

...

A biotic charge is a terrifying attack. Your enemy is approaching- you've got time to aim as they run, and maybe get a clip or two downrange- and then, with a blast of blue-purple energy they're in your face, usually with a shotgun.

The more worrying aspect of such an attack is that it detonates some biotic abilities. Standard attacks like a 'Pull' or a 'Singularity' created a lattice of shifting mass effect fields around a target, lifting them from the ground. This is sometimes called 'priming' a target. When a more focused attack is introduced to those same fields, it usually causes an explosion. Detonating primed targets is standard procedure, as the damage that results is generally much greater than either attack on it's own. A 'Throw,' a 'Warp,' a 'Lance,' and of course, a Biotic Charge, all detonate biotic fields in a spectacular manner.

...

Jane Charged, detonating her singularity with a thundering crash of noise and energy. Kai Leng was bounced violently off the wall behind him, cracking the marble stonework. He snarled, and was back on his feet. With a yell, Jane unleashed a biotic nova, blasting blue energy in every direction. Most of the Cerberus phantoms suffered the same fate as their leader, but none of them fared nearly as well. Tali's proximity mines detonating in their midst certainly didn't help their case. Most of the phantoms never got back up.

Leng stumbled back into the wall from Shepard's nova, and reached for a mono-molecular blade on his thigh. Pulling it from an old-fashioned sheath, the assassin sprinted towards Shepard, preparing to impale her.

Jane activated her omni-tool, flash-forging a weapon of her own. Glowing red-hot, the diamond-sharp surface sizzled through the air.

Leng stabbed with his blade, simultaneously activating an overload module on his omni-tool. The super-charged dart, designed to overload someone's kinetic shielding generator, suddenly flew off course, and the blade slammed into into her barriers. Leng cursed. If he'd been using a normal sword, it would have gone straight through Shepard's shields. Instead, the weapon merely chewed into her barriers with a screech.

The assassin swung again- But Shepard caught his hand, and Charged from extreme close range. Her omni-blade, outstretched on her leading fist, punched straight through Leng's armor. Blood welled out from the massive hole under his ribcage, as Jane pulled the blade out of his body. Kai Leng collapsed to the ground, barely breathing.

Then Jane pulled out her Carnifex hand-cannon, and unloaded into the assassin's head.

Shepard's clone barely moved, doing nothing but remove her helmet.

Jane stepped towards her clone, removing her own helmet as she walked. As she approached, she noticed foam accumulating at the corners of the clone's mouth. The clone staggered back, until it collapsed, falling to the floor. Its helmet rolled across the ground, as it blinked slowly. Feeble twitching movements slowed, until they were barely noticeable.

"It appears that your clone has taken a lethal dose of some sort of poison." EDI announced, transmitting through the speakers in Shepard's helmet. "I suspect cyanide. Death will likely occur within the next minute."

"Damn." Jane bowed her head. "I wanted to know more about… well, a duplicate me."

"That's not accurate." EDI replied. "This clone was grown in a vat over the course of the last year. It contains a computer for a brain, programmed to generate responses similar to those you would give. There is no comparison, Shepard. This is not a 'duplicate' of you. It is merely a copy- but a very well-made one, nonetheless."

Jane's team quickly cased the area, making sure everything was safe. They made their way towards the nearest landing pad, watching for more hostile forces. Despite hoisting her clone's corpse over her shoulder, Jane still arrived first. Only then did Garrus step up to Shepard, and speak up.

"Shepard, who were you just talking to?" he asked, curious. "You had your helmet off, so it wasn't EDI-" Garrus' own helmet's speakers crackled, then EDI's voice emerged from them.

"I've been communicating with Jane through her biotic implant." EDI explained. "The modified implant Harry replaced her burned out L3 with is significantly more powerful, as well as much more flexible. Theoretically, I could increase your reaction times, Jane, as well as directly modify your body's processes from your implant. For now, I've simply been communicating non-verbally. On a private channel, you could say."

"We can go over that another time." Jane made a note on her omni-tool. "When we're not-"

"Shepard!" EDI interrupted. "I'm detecting a significant mercenary force making their way towards Nos Astra spaceport. This is most likely the assassination attempt that Harry was worried about."  
"Where's our extraction?" Jane queried. "We need to stop them."

"It appears that Harry is on his way." EDI's voice sounded happy, all of a sudden.

"Hey, Shepard!" Harry's voice transmitted, a few moments later. His gunship shimmered, then decloaked. It made a slow pass, and landed just across the pad from Jane and her team. Everyone climbed aboard, and Harry took off. "I assume EDI already briefed you on the situation?" the wizard questioned, hopeful.

"Yep." the corners of Jane's mouth twitched upwards. "So here's what we're going to do…"

She turned around, but her clone's body was gone.

…...

Matriarch Aethyta scowled. Something wasn't right, she knew. A feeling deep in her gut told her that this was the calm before the storm. And for the first time in decades, she felt like she was in real danger.

Aethyta sighed, and slouched lower in her chair. It was a very un-asari-like motion, the matriarch mused. But she felt justified. She was technically off-duty right now, at least. And she did need time to process some of the more important changes that were occurring. To her, it seemed as if they all involved Illium in some way.

Both the Citadel Council and the Matriarchal Senate were on Illium, for differing reasons. The Council had been debating on a referendum to repeal the Treaty of Farixen. It had gained enough signatures that the petition had made it all the way to the uppermost echelons of political society, and had been passed into law not four hours ago by popular vote.

Unfortunately for Aethyta, she'd been the Matriarchal Senate-member in charge of all ground-side security measures, meaning that she'd actually been required to pay attention through the entire debate.

She had found herself seated by a matriarch in desperate need of a reality-check, and had been practically forced to listen to her ranting complaints. The combination of inanity and annoying conversation had taken its toll, and by the end of the conversation, Aethyta wasn't certain what she wanted more- to leave, or shoot the offending asari in their goddess-damned face. And after she (thankfully) disengaged, Aethyta knew she couldn't stomach any more politicking. So she went and got a drink. (nothing alcoholic, though she could always engage in some wishful thinking.) Unfortunately, the upcoming convention of the Matriarchal Senate wasn't going to be any better. She slumped further down in her chair, wishing once more that her drink was alcoholic. Security Advisor, she mused. It was a worthless title. A formality. It wasn't like anyone with any sense would attack such a large gathering of high-ranking officials.

And then her omni-tool beeped, and announced, "Attention, all combat-capable personnel. This is Matriarch Lidanya, interim orbital security director. I'm declaring threat level yakshi-two. Multiple launches of anti-air missiles have been detected within Nos Astra city limits. All civilian and diplomatic air-transport is hereby suspended. Tactical-net is online; switch to channel Aegohr-grey-six to interface."

"Shit!" Aethyta spat. Then, standing quickly, she paid for her drink, and left at a jog for the rapid-transit station. "This is Aethyta," she scowled, as she interfaced her omni-tool with the emergency channels. "I want a status update ten minutes ago." Seconds later, the reedy voice of a wet-behind-the-ears salarian combat analyst stuttered static through her ear-piece. A half-second later, the matriarch hung up, and called again. "Give me an analyst who won't make me want to kill somebody any more than I already do." she snarled, before the operator could get a word in edgewise. "Or I swear the term 'Diplomatic Incident' will be such a monumental understatement-"

"This is Jondum Bau, Council Spectre." a voice interrupted, amplified across the whole emergency channel, "How can I be of assistance?"

In the background an asari voice warned, "We've got reports of gunfire and explosives within Tel'Amarr spaceport!"

Lidanya's distinctive voice cut through the comms chatter, silencing everyone. "There aren't any Senators there. So find out who's shooting, and why." there was a few seconds of silence, before the Spectre spoke up.

"The situation at Tel'Amarr has been resolved. There was a kidnapping attempt by Cerberus, a human-supremacy group." Bau announced. "But we've still got problems. One of my contacts said that there are three separate anti-air missile batteries watching Illium's airspace. They're apparently located in hotels, to prevent an overwhelming military response."

"By the goddess." Lidanya cursed. A rapid conversation followed. A few officers weighed in, and a counter-terrorism manual from the turian separatist revolts was pulled out. A few combat analysts, in between an elcor quoting wholesale from the aforementioned manual, engaged themselves in a frustrated debate over the meaning of the audacity of the Tel'Amarr kidnapping attempt.

"Do they have such a large force here that they can just…" the asari waved her arms, in a vaguely offensive manner, "That they can attack? Just like that? Or is-"

The other spoke up then, stating, "I think they're just brazen. They couldn't possibly-"

And then another alarm started blaring.

...

A few minutes later, Aethyta was in sight of the terminal, and just as Lidanya had stated, the public transport system was locked down. A harried security guard repeated, half an apology, and half an order, that "There's been a security lockdown," and that everyone was to "leave, so we can actually figure out what happened." A few moments later, the same officer added, "A message will be broadcast across all public access channels when the suspension is lifted."

"'Scuse me." Aethya pushed her way not-so-gently through the crowd. "Pardon me." Then, as she reached the officer, she pulled her omni-tool, and transmitted her security clearance.

"Make way!" she barged past the officer, giving her barely enough time to acknowledge her existence. At a light jog, she headed towards the corner of the platform, where she'd landed her personal shuttle not an hour ago. Although 'shuttle' was a bit of a misnomer. It wasn't a bulky-looking troop transport, or anything similar. It was sleek, and chrome, and slim and pointed at the front, tapering back to heavy-set engine cowlings at the back. And, underneath the aesthetic properties, it had an electronic warfare suite of the same caliber usually found on small cruisers.

Quickly, Aethyta uplinked her omni-tool with the craft, and took off. She pointed the vehicle's nose towards Nos Astra Spaceport, where the Senators had been engaged in last-minute preparations for the upcoming session, and activated her afterburners. Acceleration slammed her back into her seat - _an honest-to-god acceleration couch-_ \- as she rocketed off towards her destination.

A warning beep from her dashboard alerted her to the pair of missiles that had targeted her vehicle, and were closing fast. Aethyta grinned, and activated a sophisticated communications-scrambler. Her connection to the Illium tactical-net fizzled out immediately, but that was a small price to pay. The two missiles that had been closing on her a few seconds ago immediately exploded, activating a failsafe to prevent short-range electronic countermeasures from completely negating all damage. Thankfully, her ECM suite was considerably longer-range, leaving her safe from the twin blasts.

She shut the scrambler off. If the attackers had any sense, they'd whitelist her ship to prevent themselves from wasting any more of their precious munitions. With a static screech, the Illium emergency-channel resumed its constant noise through her speakers.

"-Aethyta, come in, dammit!" Lidanya's voice called out, more frustrated than worried.

"I'm listening. Speak." Aethyta practically ordered.

"We're tracking a massive number of shuttles heading towards Nos Astra Spaceport, and one smaller craft a few miles out." Lidanya explained, "The smaller craft is a bit of a mystery- Cerberus troops fired a few missiles after it, but it appears to have dodged-"

"That's me." Aethyta couldn't help but smile a little. "Hypothetically, I might have an STG-grade scrambler."

"Aethyta…" Lidanya growled half-heartedly. "Alright. If somebody- _hypothetically_ \- had access to a scrambler capable of diverting the Cerberus missiles, it would be _wonderful_ if they would fly in tandem with five shuttles full of asari commandoes disembarking from the Destiny Ascension."

"If I happen to know somebody like that, I'll be sure to pass the message along." Aethyta grinned, despite the danger on the ground. She changed her heading, adjusting to join the troop-transports' simulated flight-plan. "Are your commandoes dropping in, or are the shuttles landing?" the matriarch asked, trying to better understand the plan of attack.

"It'll be a full landing, and then they'll be under your purview." Lidanya replied. "So you'll be in charge of coordinating them."

"What about the unidentified shuttles heading for the Senators?"

"They'll be landing in a few minutes. Scans show that they're full of mercenaries. We're not sure of the composition of their forces, so we'll just have to pray that Nos Astra security, as well as the bodyguards you assigned, can hold them long enough for friendly reinforcements to arrive."

"That isn't a pretty scenario, you're painting." Aethyta mumbled. "And how many hostile shuttles are there?"

"My analysts can't seem to get an accurate reading." Lidanya admitted, after a few seconds. "But they're estimating somewhere between thirty and fifty."

"Thirty to fifty _shuttles_!?" Aethyta coughed. "So we're up against anywhere from one hundred to six hundred hostiles." she laughed a little, almost hysterically. Yep. This was real danger, right here. "I assigned enough bodyguards to stop a few squads of assassins. I didn't prepare for an army!"

There was an ominous silence from Lidanya, the captain of the Destiny Ascension. Then there was a burst of static, and her voice- now panicked and angry, shot through the speakers. "We have a Cerberus fleet in high Illium orbit! I repeat-" she was cut off by another burst of static. "-m orbit!"

"What the hell do you mean?" Aethyta yelled. Her vehicle shook, as she guided it through turbulent winds. "How big is the fleet? How many ships?"

"They've got a goddess-damned dreadnought!" Lidanya cursed. "twenty-something cruisers, and maybe forty frigates. It's thirty percent larger than the section of the Citadel Defense Fleet that we've got here, plus the Senate entourage and Illium Defense fleet."

"How-"

"They're hailing the Destiny Ascension!"

"Put it on screens, then. What do they want?" A new voice spoke up- the voice of Matriarch Vellis, the governor of Illium. There was a scramble of activity, as a few beleaguered technicians struggled to follow her directions. Moments later, a visual of a figure in heavy orange and white armor appeared, broadcast across the emergency channel.

A few breathless seconds passed, before the Cerberus officer turned his head to gaze at the camera. He spoke up, voice distorted enough to be unrecognizable.

"Give us Harry Potter." the figure said. "Give us the wizard, and we will leave peacefully. You have one hour. If he is not delivered to us, we will fire on Nos Astra spaceport with our dreadnought's main cannon. You have-"

"I don't negotiate with terrorists." Vellis growled, and severed the comms channel. "Lidanya, send the activation codes for the planetary defense grid. I want all available firepower focused on that fleet. Spool up the surface-to-orbit anti-ship batteries, and launch all fighters. Target the dreadnought's maneuvering thrusters, and scramble all ground-based ECM teams and cyberattack specialists. And somebody get me a direct line to Aethyta!"

There was a crackling noise, as one of Vellis' technicians opened a private channel between Vellis and Aethyta. "I appointed you as head of security for all ground-level operations in Nos Astra because I know you're competent." Vellis began, voice hoarse. "Now I want those shuttles of mercenaries heading for the spaceport gone. I don't care what you need to do. Remember that this is Illium, not Thessia. We're allowed to do all sorts of things that those prissy bitches on the homeworld can't stand. So use some old-fashioned batarian radiation-beams, or pull out a localized EMP. I don't care how you do it. Just shoot those shuttles down before they reach the spaceport. You've effectively got carte blanche, as the humans say. Now go do your job." And the call cut out.

Aethyta grinned, and broadcast the standard 'requesting citizen aid' message on all frequencies. This was her favorite part of the job.

On almost all non-turian worlds, law enforcement and military forces requesting active-combat assistance from the civilian populations they were supposed to be defending was nigh on unheard-of. On Illium, however, where almost any weapon in existence was legal, it was one of the first lines of defense. Everyone who helped the planet in its time of need would receive wonderful rewards, whether they be large sums of money, hard-to-get data, blackmail material, or anything from exotic guns to weak WMDs.

Civilians would respond to the message with the level of destruction they would be able to produce, along with a list of all weapons they were willing to commit. Most of the notifications were from mercenaries, willing to work for the law (briefly) to make a quick buck. Some were from wealthy individuals lending large numbers of defense mechs, or swift sport-craft shuttles. And a rare few were from the significant players in the galactic economy, Aethyta mused, as she looked at a message detailing two batteries of eight GARDIAN laser point-defense and anti-fighter beams. Her smile only grew wider when she noticed that the weapons themselves fired lasers in the ultraviolet spectrum- making them much more deadly (but much more expensive to use).

With a few keystrokes, the matriarch interfaced her omni-tool with the GARDIAN laser batteries, and started designated hostile targets among the swarm of troop-transport shuttles ferrying mercenaries towards the spaceport. Thankfully, the VI in her own craft kept her steady, automatically changing course to avoid hitting any buildings.

…...

Miranda, back at Harry's safe-house, was confused, and briefly worried when a muffled buzzing sound hissed into existence, pervading the entire apartment. She stepped over to the nearest window, and immediately noticed glowing sparks tracing lines in the sky. "Harry has activated the GARDIAN laser arrays," EDI's voice played through Miranda's earpiece. "Neutralizing hostiles."

…...

Off in the distance, the swarm of mercenary-filled shuttles began to melt and fry, as sixteen laser point-defense turrets popped out of the roof of a skyscraper labeled 'Kechlu Industries.' Aiming carefully, EDI made sure to minimize collateral damage. Beams of energy blasted through the sky, vaporizing a few shuttles each and every time they passed into view between the towering spikes of other skyscrapers stabbing up into the clouds. Normally, as the lasers were in the ultraviolet spectrum, they'd be invisible to the eyes of most Council races. In an atmosphere, however, they left flaming trails of excited hydrogen in their wake. As the last mercenary shuttle's panicked evasive maneuvers finally came to a molten end, Aethyta turned her attention towards the brewing fight in orbit.

...

The battle above was not going well, murmured a little voice in the back of Lidanya's head. Blinking once, she mercilessly squashed that thought.

The Cerberus ships were proving to be harder nuts to crack than she had estimated, and it showed. That wasn't the only issue, though. For some unfathomable reason, - _Lidanya assumed sabotage_ \- Illium's defense grid hadn't gone up. It wasn't the end of the world, as the city was safe, at least for the moment. Thankfully, the Cerberus dreadnought's main cannon wouldn't be such a massive advantage for the hostile fleet- the ship's maneuvering thrusters had been disabled by automated torpedoes in the first few moments of the battle, but not before a blast from the craft's main cannon had passed through a turian cruiser like a bullet through a watermelon. That still left the cerberus ship capable of using every weapon other than its axial mass-accelerator cannon, which required the entire ship to turn in order to aim. The dreadnought's GARDIAN point-defense systems were wreaking havoc on asari fighter-wings, and barrages of missiles targeted the inactive anti-capitol stations in Illium orbit. Matriarch Vellis was distantly audible through a technician's microphone, calling for a "hard-reset of the security grid- We need that fleet in pieces!" More alarmingly, the anti-ship coilguns mounted planetside remained ominously silent. All transmissions to or from the emplacements received only static.

Even worse, it now appeared that many Cerberus vessels were fitted with fusion warheads, if the Ascension's scans showing radioactive material were right. Thankfully, Illium had multiple batteries designed specifically to deter attack by warheads. The only things getting past those would be large asteroids, and dreadnought-level axial cannons.

Sadly, the defending fleets in orbit were not protected from that sort of nuclear attack. It was just one more thing Lidanya had to worry about.

With a blinking light, and a worrying staccato beeping noise, a few more warship signatures began appearing on long-range sensors. Quickly, they engaged FTL engines, and appeared in Illium orbit with a flash of blue light. A message arrived, resounding across the emergency channels.

"This is Fleet Admiral David Anderson. I'm here to help with your Cerberus problem. Where do you need us?" Seconds later, sensors identified them as Alliance Navy vessels. "We've got sixteen frigates, twelve cruisers, and a carrier. Give us some waypoints."

Lidanya audibly sighed in relief, and added them to the tactical-map of the battle. Soon, data from their sensor arrays and information about their armaments began appearing on her screens. "Alright. Your point-defense systems have much better traverse times than the ones on my cruisers. I want you-" she indicated a few points on the three-dimensional map. "-Here. Try and take out those Cerberus fighters and gunships. And if you can, stop the boarding craft heading for the Cybaen. They've got a lower than average combat-capable crew supplement."

"Understood, Matriarch." Anderson replied. "Activating sub-light engines. We're making a burn for your indicated positions now. I estimate we'll be arriving in around forty seconds. My carrier will deploy fighters from behind one of Illium's moons."

"Wonderful." Lidanya suddenly felt weary. She just wanted this day to be over as soon as possible.

…..

"Jane, the mercenary shuttles are down. But-"

"They're going to send more." she replied with certainty.

"Yeah." the wizard transmitted. "They won't just give up, not when they've just pulled a stunt like this."

"Then I'll defend the spaceport." Jane replied. "You deal with the fight in orbit."

"Got it. Stay safe."

"Hah! Not likely."

…

Anderson checked the tactical-map again, and frowned. He'd been chasing Cerberus troops and vessels across the galaxy, yet he had no idea where they could possibly have built a dreadnought. The Systems Alliance made a point of watching planets rich in minerals, so as to have an early-warning system of sorts if any other race suddenly decided to build a bigger navy. Lots of planets had signs of mining expeditions, but most were from ages past. The turians, asari, and salarians had been putzing around the galaxy for a thousand of years. Mining companies could always be moderately profitable, and so had been good investments for centuries. Everyone wanted to make their mark on the galaxy. Some had even succeeded.

Cerberus must have mining facilities somewhere, Anderson mused. It would be far too expensive for them to legitimately purchase such an incredible quantity of refined alloys and Eezo. He made a note of that thought, and turned his attention back to the tactical map. His ships were finally interpolating themselves into the portion of the Citadel Defense fleet in orbit of Illium, opening fire on wings of fighters and heavier anti-ship bombing craft.

Aboard the Destiny Ascension, Matriarch Lidanya struggled to keep her scattered fleets organized and intact. "Have those human frigates pick up the escape pods from the Sells and the Bellum!" she called. "Their frigates are much more agile than our own." She cursed, as the Cerberus Dreadnought engaged a previously un-noticed set of backup maneuvering thrusters, bringing it ponderously into view of an asari cruiser. Moments later, the Cerberus ship's main cannon fired, with a flash of excited atoms in Illium's high atmosphere. The mass-accelerator slug blasted through the sky, vaporising the aft quarter of the asari cruiser it had been aimed at. Lidanya winced as the ship's reactor went critical a half-second later, blasting static across all frequencies. The rest of the craft, irradiated and glowing molten from the explosion, was just as much debris. Sensors fizzled and distorted, as the data they received was overridden by the blast of radio noise.

"That was the AML Thessian Sunset. Sensors read lost with all hands." her vice-admiral murmured. She, at least, had paid enough attention to continue reading individual combat-reports as they came in.

Ten thousand tons of starship rumbled beneath Lidanya's feet, as the ship's main guns blasted four twenty-kilogram slugs of steel into space. A hostile cruiser staggered sideways, venting atmosphere. Strangely, no escape pods emerged from the wreckage.

"Detecting nuclear launches!" an analyst yelled out. The asari stared at her viewscreen, and cried, "They're firing all of them!" Another analyst, equally terrified but much more composed, added, "I suggest we focus all laser batteries on the fusion warheads. Otherwise-"

"Just do it already!" Lidanya barked. "I'd rather not subject my ships to nuclear fire." A few tense minutes passed, as the warheads accelerated. They were too slow, the admiral mused, as the last nuclear signature disappeared from her screen. Her fleet had stopped the oncoming wave of nukes, but her gut told her that something was wrong. Scanners soon revealed that the so-called warheads were just missiles emitting enough radiation to convince less focused scans that they truly were nuclear explosives. With a start, Lidanya realized that the hostile dreadnought had turned itself to face the Destiny Ascension. "They needed a distraction-" she spat. "And I think we just fell for it." Her sensors displayed a flash, as the enemy ship's main cannon fired.

"Brace-" the vice-admiral screamed, but was cut off as the ship _shuddered._ Lidanya was nearly launched out of her seat, as she watched her ship's shields deplete to just above half-strength.

"Damn!" she cursed. "All cruisers outside knife-fight range with hostiles, focus fire on that dreadnought!" Another flash heralded a second shot. "Take evasive maneuvers, goddess-damnit!" Another more violent shuddering movement heralded a second hit from the Cerberus dreadnought.

"Barriers at twelve percent!" the vice-admiral called out. The Ascension's thrusters activated, pushing everything sideways as the ship shied away from the hostile dreadnought's guns. The Ascension's guns fired, blasting to smithereens a hostile frigate that had interposed itself between the gun and a Cerberus cruiser.

A fresh wave of Cerberus missiles - _not nuclear, thankfully_ \- launched towards a turian warship. The craft's point-defense suite activated, blasting first one, then three, then nine of the missiles into molten scrap. But still twenty more halved the distance with the cruiser. Lidanya clenched a fist, as more missiles closed in, overwhelming the turian ship's defenses. She was sure the ship was about to be enveloped in flame, before a lone frigate of a strange design - _and one that wasn't on the tactical-map_ \- blasted by. Corkscrewing through the swarms of missiles, the frigate's own point-defense suite opened fire, leaving the turian craft unscathed. Lidanya took a second look at the frigate, displayed fleetingly on her sensors. She recognized the design almost immediately. So too did the Alliance Admiral, it seemed, as an incoming message displayed itself on her screens.

"I think we might've won." Anderson grimaced. "Cerberus just doesn't know it yet."

"I'll be the judge of that." she replied, too busy watching as a blast from the hostile dreadnought's axial guns passed perilously close to one of the four 'arms' of the Ascension.

"We've got a part of the discretionary fleet here, matriarch," Anderson replied, with respect. "Let's just keep an eye out." He closed the channel.

"Matriarch!" Lidanya's vice-admiral tried frantically to get her attention. "We're getting reports that a Cerberus stealth ship just dropped a significant number of troops planetside, just outside the spaceport. We just received reports of heavy fighting as of ten minutes ago, but now we're just getting static from the area. They're being jammed."

"They never got the security grid working?" Lidanya asked, almost rhetorically.

"Reports are saying that the Cerberus ship was undercover a few miles outside the spaceport. It's been on Illium for months." the vice-admiral clarified.

"Cerberus bastards must have been planning this for a long time." Lidanya murmured. She thought for a moment, and sent a quick communique to the human Admiral.

- _Who is Harry Potter to Cerberus? What would they need from him badly enough to attack the Citadel Defense Fleet?_ -

Anderson replied a minute later. - _I'll make his dossier available through the human councilor. For now, it should suffice to say that he's one of the most effective soldiers in the galaxy, and he's got a serious vendetta against Cerberus. The things he knows..._ -

Lidanya frowned. Then, as if the universe was taking advantage of her momentary lack of concentration, another blast emerged from the Cerberus dreadnought's main weapon, as the onslaught of weapons-fire from the massed allied cruisers thundered into the kilometer-long vehicle's sides. The shot blasted through the Ascension's shields, impacting one of the ship's four outstretched 'arms'. The entire ship jerked, as a good portion of that 'arm' of the craft was simply blasted off into space. "Hull breaches, decks ten through thirty-eight!" Lidanya's vice-admiral read off. "Sealing bulkheads, releasing spare oxygen, and activating emergency shield capacitors." Almost immediately, the Ascension's shields jumped back up to ten percent. A stray shot from a Cerberus cruiser made it drop three points not a second later. The vice-admiral pointed out a new threat, while gripping a railing with a white-knuckled hand. Hundreds of red dots on the tactical-map massed into a loose formation, and launched themselves forwards.

A massive wave of hostile fighters - _almost every single one Cerberus was able to muster, it looked like_ \- blasted their way towards the Destiny Ascension. More than four hundred of the vehicles slammed on their afterburners, swarming through the waves of point-defense lasers and missiles. Barely containing her own profanity, Lidanya stepped back to her chair, and strapped herself in. She braced for impact, but the impact never came. Nearly two-hundred enemy fighters were still functional, as the swarm closed on the damaged Destiny Ascension. Just as the Ascension was entering the edge of the fighter's maximum range, a vast wave of missiles and gunfire appeared from behind the asari ship, devastating the oncoming horde of strike-craft.

The Alliance fighters had arrived.

Another barrage of anti-fighter missiles followed the first, dropping hundreds more red dots from the tactical-maps as each missile struck true. Then the Alliance fighters moved in, unloading mass-accelerator fire from extreme close range. All that soon remained of the hostile fighter wings was a slowly-expanding sphere of debris.

Withering gunfire from turian, human, and asari cruisers slammed into the Cerberus dreadnought's shields, depleting them rapidly. They soon failed, and molten steel and alloys began sloughing from the superstructure of the hostile ship as half the fleet's mass drivers unloaded on the beleaguered dreadnought. A pair of lucky shots from a turian cruiser blasted into the firing arrays of the dreadnought's axial gun, denting it inwards. One last shot from the Cerberus flagship hit the side of its own barrel, blasting a jagged line through the armor covering the area. Continued fire bore deep into the guts of the ship, until a stray shot hit one of the kilometer-long craft's armories, which went up with a blast that shook the craft from aft to bow. Venting atmosphere from hundreds if not thousands of ruptures, it was clear that the dreadnought was doomed. Stray bursts from GARDIAN point-defense systems streaked across the ship's hull, boiling away the top layer of ablative armor. Lidanya watched an Alliance fighter wing as they took themselves perilously close to the hostile ship to deliver a devastating cluster of disruptor torpedoes, which exploded moments later in a spectacular blaze of purple eezo-fueled explosions across the ship's ventral point-defense hardpoints.

Lidanya gritted her teeth, as she stared once more at the tactical-map. Her tactic of focusing fire on the dreadnought had worked, but it had also opened many of her cruisers up to counterattacks from the enemy ships her gambit had freed up. In the last ten minutes, she'd lost another five cruisers, and nine frigates. Now, she turned the Ascension's guns on another Cerberus cruiser. Her own ship's shields dropped a percentage point.

The same strange frigate blasted deep into the Cerberus formation, engaging ships twice or three times its size at knife-fight range. Staring more closely, Lidanya couldn't believe the kind of firepower fitted onto the diminutive ship. Missiles blasted from the craft's underbelly, while an axial gun opened up on more distant targets. What looked like some sort of plasma cannons sprayed gouts of brilliant energy across the battlefield, where it melted through shields, and then armor and bulkheads in seconds. An array of GARDIAN lasers ran down the ship's spine, like a deadly string of vertebrae. Cerberus frigates pursued the craft relentlessly, but Lidanya was sure that they were just heading to their deaths. She confirmed that thought, as she watched one of the frigate's lasers cut straight through one of its pursuers, and into another one behind it. A missile pierced a Cerberus cruiser's armor, and turned it into an expanding ball of flame as the frigate sped by. The name 'Nyx' was barely visible across one of the ship's broadsides, as it seemed to have taken a hit or two from one of the Cerberus ships' point defense suites.

The rest of the Council Fleet opened fire on the Cerberus craft, slowly whittling them away. A few of the more intact ships turned, and vanished into FTL. Lidanya watched them escape with a profound sense of relief. Her part in this was done. Now it was time for the commando squads to go into the spaceport.

She noticed the Nyx turn, adjusting its heading to face straight downwards, towards Illium. A burst of blue announced the ignition of the craft's afterburners, as it entered the atmosphere.

…

Alec Ryder knew something was wrong as soon as hundreds of nearby omni-tools started beeping. Call it a hunch- his gut was rarely wrong. He opened the message on his own device, finding an uplink to Illium's unique emergency-access channel. A brief bit of text explained that he'd gotten the link because he'd registered as a bodyguard as he passed through customs. His boss, Jien Garson, stared worriedly over his shoulder. He was seated- otherwise, she'd have been too short.

Ryder didn't remain seated for long, as he read through the bulk of the emergency message. He checked his pistol, and murmured a quiet thanks that everyone and their pet fish was able to own and wear heavy armor and military-grade weapons anywhere on Illium. (For exorbitant rates, of course.) "We've got hostiles incoming." he announced. More beeping filled the room, as a few more bodyguards checked their omni-tools. Alec would later swear blind that he'd heard a muffled intake of breath, and a drell voice giving a quick prayer.

A group of quarians - _and wasn't it strange, to see quarians willingly land on Illium. The migrant fleet wasn't welcomed in the entire Tasale System, much less in Illium's orbit._ \- spoke up, as a tired voice tried to pacify a more quarrelsome one. Both voices carried an electronic buzz, as they were passed through their environment-suits' speakers. "They were right, Rael!" the angry voice hissed. "We shouldn't have even landed on this accursed planet of lawyers and mercenaries. No good can come of this."

"Rann, I understand your concern. But we'll be fine. We did bring a squad of marines, after all." Twelve heavily armed quarians did their level best to puff out their chests.

"We should have just waited for the next council-session on the Citadel." the first voice mumbled, now sounding tired, instead of angry.

"We had no way of knowing that all this would happen." The second voice replied. "It's not as if-"

"Yes, Rael, we did know something was happening." the formerly combative voice - _A quarian by the name of Rann_ \- interrupted. "And we chose to land here of our own volition." Ryder's ears perked up. It seemed that the quarians had been forewarned of the attack.

"Hah!" an ancient-looking Krogan grunted. "First time any of these things has ever happened near me. Maybe I'll actually be able to kill something on this planet."

"Drack," another krogan voice mumbled, exasperated. This one was female, and sounded much younger. A female turian sat by her side, caressing an assault rifle's stock. "We're not here to kill things. We just want to push the senate for some research on the Genophage."

"You are, maybe." the older krogan grumbled. "These Asari witches won't touch the topic with a dreadnought. I'd kill to get some excitement here. It's too boring."

Alec Ryder looked down, as Jien Garson tugged on his armoured sleeve. "Let's go talk to them." she murmured.

Ryder exhaled. "You want to play politics here?" he whispered. "While we're under attack?"

"We're not under attack. Not anymore, at least." Garson pointed towards his omni-tool, still outstretched. He turned his head, to see a live-feed of the approaching shuttles. He watched for a few seconds longer, and made the same observation that she had.

"GARDIAN lasers." Ryder suddenly recognized the style of destruction unleashed on the hapless mercenaries. "Somebody's eager to protect their investments." He looked down, and Garson was gone. He scanned the room with his eyes, as his heartbeat accelerated. A second later, Ryder spotted her halfway to the krogan delegation.

"Jien!" he protested, catching up to her with a few quick strides. "Don't run off like that."

"Why not?" she huffed. "Illium is one of the more secure places we've been."

"Well-" Alec considered. "It makes me nervous." was the reason he finally settled on.

"Then I'm sorry to hurt your nerves, but I'm going to keep on doing my level best for the Initiative." Garson replied, voice terse.

"Is something wrong?" Ryder guessed, grasping at straws. To his own surprise, it appeared he'd struck a nerve.

"Yes, something's goddamn wrong." Garson hissed, perhaps louder than she'd meant to. She glanced around, and then added in a more sedate tone, "Here. Take a good goddamn look." as she held up her omni-tool. Displayed in the main screen, in tiny letters, was a bank statement. In small print, it read, 'Credits: 132,769, 242 and .51'. And then a massive list of deductions, and all sorts of data that Ryder could only barely understand. But it all amounted to the fact that Jien Garson's funds were running dangerously low.

"Didn't you once tell me that upkeep on all the research and development projects the Initiative was running led to expenditures around forty million credits a month?" Alec asked, cautious. Garson remained silent, not meeting his eyes. "Jien, is the Initiative running out of money?" he finally put the pieces together. "That's why you wanted to come here." he speculated. "You wanted to try and obtain funding from the Council, or the Matriarchal Senate."

A voice, distorted and foreign, suddenly rang out through Garson's omni-tool. Alec's hand shot to the butt of his pistol, while Jien let out an involuntary gasp. "While all of this has been highly informative," the voice drawled, "I plan on alleviating your money problem." A blinking light over Garson's bank statement accompanied millions upon millions upon millions of transactions, all for less than a credit. "Do with this what you will," the voice stated seriously, as if he'd done anything other than throw more than a billion credits at a cause whose results he may never see. "Build a Drell ark, add nuclear armaments to the Nexus, build automated mining-drones. I don't particularly care. But be aware," there was a brief pause, " that something is coming. This is the calm before the storm, and when the storm arrives, it will be one like nothing that has ever been seen before, by any creature living or dead. So I would _advise_ , with the greatest vehemency I am able to convey, that you and the rest of your Andromeda Initiative leave the Milky Way galaxy within the next six or eight months. Otherwise, you may be too late." And then the voice disappeared with a _*click*_ that signalled that the caller had hung up.

"SAM!" Ryder hissed. "Can you trace that caller?"

The AI in his head was quiet for a moment, before speaking up. "No, Alec." SAM said, speaking with audible regret. "The call's signal bounced off of more than sixty different communications towers across the planet before I lost it. I apologize."

"Damn." Ryder cursed half-heartedly. "Jien, we need to talk." he added. "Somewhere private, away from prying eyes and ears. Because I recognize that style of communication."

"What," Jien scoffed, clearly shaken, "Dumping insane amounts of credits into what could be a fool's errand?"

"No." Alec replied, face a mask of concern. "Negotiating from a position of absolute power, while remaining anonymous. And because that's one of the same vocal scramblers I've heard used by the Shadow Broker." Garson shivered. She remained almost unnaturally still, her face the picture of contemplation. The rest of the dignitaries and petitioners in the waiting room kept talking, some about topics more serious than others. The ancient krogan gave a quick recap of the history of the Rachni war, while the quarian delegation huddled together. A pair of Drell had a murmured conversation, too low to hear.

The room fell silent, and the lights flickered. A muffled explosion from the building's lower levels shook the floor, and a ringing thud came from the elevator-shaft. Seconds later, the elevator came screaming downwards, out of control. A sudden wrenching screech heralded its violent arrival at the bottom of the elevator-shaft almost thirty seconds later.

Ryder flexed his dominant arm, activating a set of magnets in his palm. The electromagnet keeping his pistol attached to his thigh reversed polarity, pulling the gun into his waiting hand. His combat-HUD engaged, showing him anything and everything he could use to his advantage. Water mains, power lines, and weapons lockers lit up with a dull orange glow. "Jien-Get down!" Ryder yelled, as gunfire broke out behind the doorway at the end of the hall. The door suddenly sealed with a clang, as emergency-procedures went into effect. Dull emergency lighting came on at foot-level, as the sea of delegates burst into chaos. Frantic civilians ran every-which-way like headless chickens, while harried bodyguards did their level best to calm or restrain their employers. In the corner of Alec's vision, a squad of mercenaries - _wait a moment, that one's wearing N7-standard biotic armor!_ \- repelled down the inside of the now-inoperable elevator shaft. "Identify yourselves!" Ryder called to the leading member of the incoming group, as the figure touched the floor.

"Jane Shepard, Council Spectre!" a feminine voice yelled in reply, struggling to be heard above the cries of frightened civilians, gunshots from the other room, and muffled explosions from all around. "I could use a hand?" she added. Alec stepped over to her, and quickly began to help her as she untied her squadmates from the ropes traveling down the elevator shaft.

"Harry?" one of them - _a quarian, and a fairly young one_ \- asked, looking at Alec. Or, more accurately, looking at his armor. "I thought-"

"That's not him." Shepard cut her off. "EDI says he's Alec Ryder, ex-alliance special forces."

"Oh." the quarian shrunk back. "The guy who got too interested in artificial intelligence for all the politicians. I've heard about you."

"Tali, now isn't the time." the next squadmate - _an asari_ \- coming down the elevator shaft interrupted. "Let's deal with Cerberus first."

"I've been waiting quite a while for a decent fight." yet another alien announced. Untying himself from the improvised harness, a turian with a massive sniper rifle swiftly unlimbered the weapon, covering the doorway at the other end of the room. Now, no gunshots were audible from the other side of the door.

"Careful," Ryder cautioned. "I think the security forces on the other side of the door-" he gestured towards the structure at the other end of the room, "-just got wiped out. They'll probably start cutting through the locks soon." As if on cue, the top of the two doors began to glow a dark cherry-red. The electronic lock hissed and crackled, giving out brief warnings and alarms. "We've got thirty seconds, tops!" he yelled, ushering Garson into cover. "Stay here." he murmured in her ear. "The Initiative would be dead in the water without you." Then he stood, and joined Shepard in pushing civilians off to the sides of the room, where they could find cover behind planter boxes and ornamental statues. A few more members of Shepard's squad made their way down the ropes. A tall black human, and a deceptively-frail salarian in a lab-coat took cover, while readying military-grade weaponry.

The mass of bodyguards, on the other hand, found their own cover, and pointed their guns at the door. By no means were they the galaxy's most hardened forces, but perhaps they would have been able to prevail alone through sheer number of bullets. At the other end of the hall, the door's locks now glowed bright orange, and the electronic alert system sputtered frantically.

"Get behind something solid," Garrus warned. He knelt behind a steel podium, with his gun steadied across the top. He gazed down the rifle's sights, as the door's locking mechanism glowed white, dripping molten metal. "Here they come!"

And then both doors were launched off their hinges, as if hit by some massive battering ram. The doors screeched across the floor, bouncing off the stairs that led up to the elevators, at the other end of the room. A mech, almost twenty feet tall, squeezed through the doorway. Sparks flew, as it scraped the top of the doorframe, bending it out of shape. The designation 'Atlas' was printed across one of the thing's shoulders, while a pilot was visible behind an orange screen of some sort. A mass-accelerator cannon graced one of the vehicle's arms, while a missile launcher made itself visible on the other.

There was a stunned silence, before an almost inaudible tinkling heralded the arrival of five or ten cylindrical objects. A flashing light on each end identified them immediately. "GRENADES!" Shepard yelled, voice carrying through the air. There was a hissing sound, and then white gas and black smoke began pouring from each grenade. "Helmets on, that's tear gas!" Ryder yelled.

And then the fighting began in earnest, as everyone with a weapon opened fire.

...

Feel free to review, or send me a message. I'll try to answer each as quickly as possible. Enjoy!


	15. Priority: Petitioner Protection

"I'm so glad my gun has an infrared scope," Garrus muttered, as he pulled the trigger. Behind the billowing smoke, an orange-armored figure fell with a distorted cry and a clatter of metal on tile.

"SAM?" Ryder queried. A half-second later, hostile figures were outlined in red. Alec brought up his assault rifle, and unloaded.

Tali stared at the Atlas mech's cybernetic defenses with undisguised glee. Quickly tapping buttons on her omni-tool, she giggled. Her attack-drone lifted itself into the air with a whirr, as she loaded a subversion program into its system. Then she directed it towards the mech with an outstretched finger and another uncharacteristic laugh.

"Where are they, EDI?" Jane muttered. The smoke cleared from her view, as EDI layered a virtual copy of the room over her visor. Jane's attention drew itself to the double-file line of Cerberus forces filing through the door under the smoke's concealment. With a yell, she charged. Blue energy sloughed out of her path as she blasted towards her target. Carried by a cone of biotic power, she eviscerated the Cerberus infantryman she'd chosen - _one of the more heavily-armored infantry units_ \- with an outstretched omni-blade. A nova of blue expanded around her, knocking a pair of troopers off their feet. She finished them off with individual shots from her Carnifex pistol, tearing through their moderately-armored helmets like a hot knife through butter. Shepard turned, noticing that she'd drawn the attention of the Atlas Mech. It fired, barely missing her as she ducked behind a pillar. She unloaded her hand-cannon into another cerberus infantryman, and reloaded. Ducking out of cover, she aimed the pistol at the mech's joints, scanning for weak spots. An attack-drone appeared through the smoke, flying down behind the mech. There was a hissing flash of white, and the bipedal steel tank lurched. Red lights on the vehicle's weapons flickered green, indicating that the safeties were on. A sparking blast sprayed across the inside of the armor-suit's cockpit, as the control console overloaded. The pilot screamed, shuddering violently, and slumped over with a muted sizzling sound. Jane noticed where blackened holes indicated where bolts of electricity had entered his armor. It didn't look like the pilot would be getting back up.

"Run, Shepard!" a quarian voice - _Tali's voice_ \- played over Jane's radio. "That's going to explode!"

"Damn!" Shepard, cursed. Jumping out of cover, she focused her attention on a Cerberus trooper on the other side of the room. Enveloping herself in a biotic cone of energy, Shepard charged again, traversing the distance in a second.

A moment later, the Atlas mech exploded in a searing ball of fire. Garrus watched a few bodyguards duck into cover, in fear of the sparking shrapnel bouncing around the room. The turian centered his sights on another target. An orange-and-white helmet developed a terminal case of perforation. Garrus smiled, and repeated the process.

"Bring in backup!" a distorted voice called out in panic. "We're getting slaughtered!"

"Somebody forgot to turn off their external speakers." Tali laughed.

...

"Scanners are picking up a Cerberus gunship headed for Nos Astra spaceport, as well as a hostile shuttle leaving on an outbound trajectory." A voice explained across the Illium emergency channels. "The gunship is coming in from the south, so it looks like they won't be in sight of the GARDIAN array at the Kechlu building. The shuttle is heading out of the city at supersonic speeds. We're not sure why, although it's possible that the Cerberus stealth ship never left the atmosphere."

"They've got about fifteen senators stuffed in that shuttle." Aethya's voice brought a burst of static. "Idiots decided that the best time for a shopping trip was during a security lockdown. Cerberus troops were on them the moment they left the building. We can't let them escape."

"What do you propose, then?" Lidanya gave her input, tired and frustrated. "We're not going to shoot down a vehicle full of captured senators."

"No, but I've got a tracking beacon on it." Aethyta sounded supremely satisfied with herself. "I've got a guy with a plan."

"I hope whoever that is knows what they're doing." came the other matriarch's reply. "Cerberus leadership is already sending more demands. I'll try and delay as long as possible."

…

"Gunship!" Alec Ryder yelled.

Sunlight glinted off of the sleek black body of a mantis gunship, as it blasted into view. Heavy guns on the craft's wings opened fire, tearing through the 'bulletproof' glass of the decorational picture window in seconds. A yell went up among the bodyguards as they called, "Get in cover!" and other variations of the same idea to their friends and allies.

Missiles followed, targeting anything large or heavy enough to serve as cover. With a multitude of staccato popping noises and roaring gunshots, a mass of bodyguards opened fire on the more dangerous target. The gunship lurched precariously as bullets slammed into its armoured undercarriage. Its barriers quivered, but withstood the onslaught.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ryder spotted one of the quarian admirals as the alien dove out of cover. Alec blinked, surprised by the readings coming from the quarian's omni-tool. With a high-pitched buzz, the gunship brought its weapons to bear on a bodyguard not ten feet from Ryder's position. He ducked down into cover with a muffled curse, as a salarian he'd been talking to not ten minutes ago was vaporized. A few seconds later, when the ex-N7 soldier stood to unload another clip at the hostile craft, he noticed that same quarian admiral standing tall in front of the shattered picture window. The migrant fleet admiral's omni-tool was held outstretched. As he scanned it, SAM overlaid a plethora of warning insignias into Alec's visor.

Then the quarian pushed a button, and unleashed hell. A small projectile glittered, as it rapidly closed the distance between the admiral and the gunship. When it touched the craft's barriers, it exploded violently. A ball of flame engulfed the gunship, blasting both wings off to either side with a tremendous * **Boom!** * and a mushroom cloud reminiscent of the M920 Cain. What wreckage that remained of the craft fell swiftly towards the ground, hundreds of feet below.

"I told you it would work, Raan!" yelled the quarian admiral - _partially singed, as he'd been the closest to the blast zone_. "Now who wants to buy a Cobra Rocket-Propelled Grenade!" he capered, ecstatic. A few shots buzzed by him, and he laughed enthusiastically while an especially burly quarian marine dragged him into cover.

"SAM, tell me you caught that on video." Ryder couldn't help but grin, as he and the rest of the defending forces laid waste to whatever Cerberus troops remained.

"Yes, Alec. The last seventeen minutes and twenty-two seconds have been recorded for the purpose of after-action reporting and proof of guilt."

Five minutes later, everything even remotely hostile had been dealt with. A few proximity mines had been disarmed, along with a trio of anti-infantry turrets. Fifty-something orange and white armoured corpses lay strewn across the tiled floor, which by now was thoroughly charred, bloodstained, and shattered. Jagged chunks of glass had sprayed across the room under the gunship's onslaught, and some dignitaries had the small cuts and scrapes on exposed skin to prove it. A few areas of the floor were cracked, such as the epicenter of Jane's Nova. And the elephant in the room was the twisted, blackened pile of steel and alloys that comprised the remains of the Atlas mech. The scent of copper, ozone, burnt flesh, and smoke filled the air.

"Alec?" Jien Garson's quivering voice cut through the muttering hum of panicked conversation. A few aliens sobbed wildly, at various ends of the room. One of Shepard's crew tended to an injured asari at the far doorway, giving her medi-gel. The group of quarians had lost two of their marines, and the younger female quarian with the oh-so-effective attack drone had engaged the admirals in a muttered discussion. "Alec?" Garson repeated, this time getting through to him.

"What is it?" Ryder turned in her direction.

"Is this…" she made a vague gesture with both hands. "...this attack finally over?"

"We'll probably be safe for now, at least." Alec replied. "But there's no telling. Cerberus is a nasty organization, and I've got no idea why they're here. We should probably get off-planet as soon as possible."

"Oh no." Garson murmured, eyes distant. "Are those-" she pointed a shaking finger out the shattered floor-to-ceiling window. "-missiles?"

...

"By the goddess." An analyst murmured on the bridge of the Destiny Ascension. "Admiral!" the asari called out. "Cerberus ground forces are launching missiles! Based on the quantity, I'd say they're firing everything they've got."  
Lidanya closed her eyes, and sent a quick prayer to Athame.

...

Ryder spun around. His eyes widened, as they settled on the multitude of rapidly-approaching dots. He could see their smoke-trails, where the missiles had left behind a byproduct of their chemical propellent. Some of them exploded, still kilometers away, as they were cut down by GARDIAN laser-fire. Far more stayed true to their course. "SAM," he murmured. "Amplify my next sentence."

"Acknowledged." the AI replied.

Ryder composed himself, and yelled, "WE'VE GOT MISSILES INCOMING! GET DOWN!" His voice, amplified tenfold through his helmet's speakers, echoed off of nearby buildings, and forced many delegates within the mostly-destroyed waiting-room to cover their ears and wince at his volume.

"Alec, it appears-" SAM announced, "-that Cerberus forces are firing all of their available munitions at this location. I recommend immediate evacuation."

Ryder cursed. "I'm not leaving all of these people to die, damn it! Give me another option, SAM." As he spoke, an asari commando stepped rapidly towards the shattered window, and raised her arms. A ball of purple-blue energy appeared in her hands, and rapidly increased in size. "What are you-" Alec managed, before he realized exactly what the asari was attempting. "SAM, help me out!" he cried urgently as he joined the asari. A sphere of energy appeared in his palms, and he held them out. Growing in size, his own biotic barrier enmeshed itself with the commando's. Around them, the sphere- now one massive biotic shield -grew in size.

"EDI," a voice murmured, somewhere off to his left, and Shepard herself added her strength to the Barrier, aided by her own asari crewmember. The sphere grew further, and glowed more brightly. Ryder felt as if it had somehow gained a feeling of implacable solidity.

The leading few missiles of the explosive barrage began impacting the shield with a thunderous roar, sending explosive shockwaves and shudders through the building. The roar soon became a constant bass crash, as more and more missiles began to impact the barrier. Sweat poured down the inside of Alec's armor, as he struggled to keep the barrier up. It was clear that the other three biotics were having similar issues. Shepard's asari companion - _Liara, Ryder thought her name was_ \- collapsed to a knee under the strain.

"I'm an archeologist." She spat through gritted teeth. "I dig up rocks. I don't-" she groaned with effort, and stopped talking in favor of concentrating. Half-delirious, Ryder glanced off to the side. A part of him was surprised to see how many people had their omni-tools out and capturing video. The other part was busy making sure that he didn't get annihilated. The thunderous wave of explosive power abated for a second, before continuing. It was slowing, at least. Ryder looked down in surprise at the ground. It was closer than he remembered. He'd been standing a moment ago. He pushed all his strength into the barrier, desperately keeping it steady. When had he fallen to a knee? In his peripheral vision, he noticed that Liara had collapsed. She was being tended to by a quarian and a salarian. Shepard kept odd company, Alec mused, in the portion of his brain not completely occupied with the biotic shield. The asari who had first brought up the shield - _Barissa? Sarissa?_ _Alec hadn't caught her name_ \- swayed dangerously on her feet. More worryingly, the barrier flickered slightly.

"Alec!" SAM's voice called out in panic.

"What is it, SAM?" Alec acknowledged, replying sluggishly. His mouth wasn't moving as he wanted it to, and his hands had developed a quiver usually associated with the ancient and extremely infirm.

"You need to stop this!" The AI broadcast, displaying a combination of emotions. Anger, fear, frustration, and underneath all that, a core of worry. "Alec," SAM pleaded, "Your biotic implant is heating up too much. If this goes on much longer, you'll kill yourself!"

"I won't let these people-" He stumbled.

"No, Alec. This isn't what Ellen would want. The Initiative can always fix your body, and your headpiece is nigh-on impenetrable. But if you boil your brain..." The AI didn't need to explain how bad that would be.

"SAM-" frustrated and exhausted, Ryder tried to argue.

"Please, Alec." The AI begged.

Alec Ryder, in that moment, watched his life flash before his eyes. Weighing the options, he considered whether or not to hold the barrier, and risk near-certain death. But then his thoughts caught themselves on something.

Three specific somethings.

" _Scott._ " Alec murmured. " _Sara._ "

His children. And then, " _Ellen._ " his wife.

Alec Ryder opened his hands, releasing his hold on the biotic barrier. He collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily. His vision swam before his eyes. Black spots danced across his sight. He stared back up at the biotic shield interposed between the window and the onslaught of explosive death. He hadn't felt this vulnerable in years. A pain in the back of his head - _his biotic implant_ \- slowly subsided, as it cooled.

Only now were the missile impacts really slowing by any significant margin, but even that didn't make the outlook any brighter, as Sarissa fell to her knees. Her arms seemed to refuse to behave the way she wanted them to, as she struggled to keep them raised against the explosive onslaught.

Shepard still stood. She was unmoving, like a safe port in a storm. The spherical barrier slowly began to reduce in size, though, as a look of deeper concentration flickered across her face. Jane stepped forwards like Atlas carrying the world, until she stood at the very edge of the building. A thick haze of smoke and other fumes filled the air, and shrapnel, shattered glass, and blood coated the floor. The incoming missiles weighed heavy on her barrier- because it was her barrier now. Sarissa - _the asari who had started the barrier_ \- had fully collapsed, twitching, not a few seconds ago. Jane struggled against the shield, trying to keep it in position. It flickered for a second, before the impacts of the missiles suddenly increased in speed, building once again to a crescendo of deafening light and sound. Jane gritted her teeth, pushing all her will out through her arms. Despite everything, the sphere began to collapse, pushing inwards. She redoubled her effort, but still the barrier shuddered, threatening to collapse. Two missiles impacted at once, and the shield shook like a bubble close to bursting-

-And then something was singing. A bird, of some kind. The melody and the tune it sang seemed to echo through reality, in one inexorable major-chord. The air filled with the scent of citrus, and a cool breeze cleared the filthy air. EDI was yelling something in Jane's ears about 'overheating your biotic amp,' but she couldn't hear the AI over the supernatural music.

It was Phoenix song, she realized. Harry had described it to her once, and only once. He had sounded wistful, and nostalgic, and lonely. But his words still rang true. "The most beautiful music you've ever heard," he'd said. "But it's not music. It's something else, something curved in a world of straight lines. It defies every explanation I've ever heard. There's nothing else like it." He'd been nearly fervent, but certain of one thing at the end of his lecture. "You'll know what it is it as soon as you hear it." _  
_With a force of will that almost seemed easy, as she listened to the phoenix song, Jane spread her arms, and forced her biotic barrier outwards. She didn't notice, but the edges of her fingertips began to smoke. Her eyes lit up like beacons of green light, and her feet lifted a few inches off the ground. At the base of her skull, her biotic implant glowed white-hot, then ejected itself from its socket. Still the barrier remained up, as blue energy pooled in Jane's hands. The missile barrage slowed to a crawl, and stopped with a last impact. Noise like thunder echoed from the walls of skyscrapers both near and far, as the echoes of the explosives returned to their source. The breeze wafted away the last of the dust and smoke clogging the air, revealing cloudy blue skies.

Shepard let the barrier drop with a few deep breaths. She stumbled back, and took a sip of water from a canteen at her hip. Looking up at the sky, she spotted a ship descending rapidly through the clouds towards her position. She recognized the ship, and felt a flash of happiness travel through her veins.

"Hah!" she laughed. "We're safe now. That's the Nyx." A delighted mumble ran through the crowd at her outburst. She watched the ship's contours as it twisted midair, orienting itself horizontally. With the whine of thrusters, the ship descended into the forest of skyscrapers barely two hundred feet away. The ship's loading bay opened, and a small black shuttle shot towards Jane's position.

"That's Harry." she added unnecessarily, as the rest of her crew gathered their weapons. "I think he's worried." She picked up her own pistol, and checked her omni-tool.

'YOUR BIOTIC AMP IS OFFLINE,' a new message read. EDI must have transmitted that directly to her omni-tool, Jane mused. She reached up to touch the socket at the base of her skull- and found it empty. She turned around, and saw the molten remains of her biotic amp on the ground. She looked up, and watched as Harry's shuttle hovered inside through the broken picture window. It landed with the soft whine of vectoring thrusters and an eezo-core reversing polarity.

The side door of the craft opened, and Harry stepped out, gun in one hand, and wand in the other. He quickly sheathed both as soon as he noticed Jane and her team intact and ready to go. "Thank god you're all okay." he muttered, as he gazed around the room. Jane waved to get his attention.

"I don't think my amp was supposed to do that." she began, while pointing at the still-red-hot remains of her biotic amplifier. Harry's face lit up in understanding.

"That's a safety measure." he explained, then backtracked. "I mean, it ejects itself it it starts overheating to the point where it can do too much brain damage."

"It was white-hot when it launched itself out of your skull." a still-recovering Alec Ryder interjected. He'd pulled himself to a seated position, leaning against a gunshot-ridden bench. "But you certainly didn't look like you needed it."

"You must have been under incredible stress for it to do that." Harry nodded.

"That's right." Jane replied. "Although I've never felt better." She seemed confused. "Something started… Singing."

"Phoenix song?" the wizard guessed. "I've felt something similar."

"Yeah."

"Well, I brought a spare amp for you." Harry held up a package. "EDI probably wouldn't have let me leave without it." He pulled it from a sterile plastic sleeve, and spun his finger counterclockwise, indicating that Jane was to turn around. She turned on her heel, and he slipped the device into the plug at the base of her skull with a * _click_ *.

Instantly, Jane winced, as EDI announced the full range of her displeasure through the biotic amp, speaking directly into her mind. "Probability suggests that you should have died!" The AI pronounced. "Shepard, you must be more careful in future."

"Will do, EDI." Shepard replied.

"Excuse me," Ryder interjected. "I'd like to thank you for saving these people. You're truly an incredible biotic soldier...Or just reckless." he joked. "Have you heard of the Andromeda Initiative?"

"No, I don't believe I have." Shepard replied, wary.

"It's a bunch of whackjobs-" Harry joked, "-trying to go explore Andromeda when we've barely mapped two percent of the Milky Way."

"I heard one percent." Ryder inquired.

"Eh. The figure changes all the time." Harry replied, blase about the whole conversation. He looked down at his omni-tool, and back up. "So Cerberus managed to capture a couple senators." he added in a conversational tone. "Along with Councilor Tevos."

There was a pained silence for a few moments. "That's a massive success, for them." Ryder finally replied. "This just got a lot more complicated."

"It'll probably wind up as a hostage situation." Jane muttered. "And they've got one of the VIPs. This could turn into one hell of a fuckup."

"You are, of course, assuming that this whole event wasn't _already_ a clusterfuck." Harry deadpanned. "What with all the terrorist attacks and the hostile fleet drifting dead in orbit."

"What was that about a fleet?" Shepard spoke for everyone in the room, who had remained unaware of the battle that had taken place far above their heads.

"Cerberus brought in a fleet." the wizard explained. "According to my scanners, there were thirty-six frigates, twenty-five cruisers-" A swiftly indrawn breath was audible, as more than a few people let out an involuntary gasp. "-and a dreadnought." he added, voice grim. "Eleven-hundred meters. They didn't half-ass it in the slightest. The ship was a third again as long as the Alliance standard Everest-class dreadnoughts."

"Was?" a voice - _Garrus, maybe?_ \- piped up, hopeful.

"Was." Harry confirmed. "I've got video of most of Lidanya's cruisers blasting it to hell." He patted his omni-tool. "I won't show it now, though." he forestalled a few eager queries. "I'm currently keeping my eye on a tracking beacon I've got on Tevos herself."

"How do you know Cerberus won't detect it?" somebody asked.

"It's subcutaneous." Harry smiled.

"So you injected a Councilor with a locating device?" Jane tilted her head in confusion.

"A while back, yeah." the wizard responded, trying and failing to act nonchalant.

Shepard frowned. "Since I'll probably be reinstated as a Spectre within the hour, I never heard that." she announced, then changed the subject. "So Harry," she began, "Mind explaining how a Council-member got captured by Cerberus troops?"

"An aide of theirs was subverted." Harry explained. "Tevos and a few of her political allies were taken directly from their conference room. They're aboard a Cerberus shuttle, whose whereabouts I'm currently tracing. Hopefully, they'll soon rendezvous with the stealth ship on which most of the hostile infantry arrived on, a few months ago."

"So we're performing a boarding action on the Cerberus ship once they bring the VIPs aboard?" Jane guessed.

"Exactly." the wizard grinned. "And I've got a few tools that should make the 'boarding' part significantly easier. Thanks to EDI, this shuttle-" Harry gestured towards the vehicle he'd arrived in, "-is registered with Cerberus as one of their own ships. So we can just board freely, and wreak havoc." Then, to Jane's thoughtful gaze, he added, "That's the plan, at least."

…...

Alec Ryder walked back into the central area of the waiting room, surveying the crowd for his boss, Jien Garson. He walked past her twice, until she reached out and grabbed his shoulder. He turned to look in her direction, to find her talking animatedly to a turian, two krogan, and a pair of drell. "I've found a few possible inductees into the Initiative!" Garson said, with a bright smile on her face. "And we've just been discussing the possibility of creating a Drell Ark."

Ryder sighed.

Today was going to be a long day.

…...

"Permission to come aboard?"

" _*Ksht_ *" The cerberus ship's comms spat static. "We aren't expecting any more incoming shuttles. Our mission parameters require complete stealth until we reach high orbit. That's a negative."

"Bollocks." Harry murmured. "Well, I suppose I added a boarding spike for a reason." The shuttle rocked, as Illium's famous turbulence seemed to jostle the craft with rising frequency. G-forces pushed all passengers back into their seats, and a blue glow enveloped the crew compartment. The scent of ozone and the sound of an inertial dampener filled the compartment, while the engine cowlings on the back of the craft emitted a high-pitched racing scream.

Then there was a thunderous crash, and an almost imperceptible impact. The sound of rending metal and rushing air was audible, as Jane yelled in disbelief, "Did you just ram the Cerberus ship?"

"Indubitably!" the wizard called with a smile, deliberately over-enunciating his own british accent. "Head to the front of the shuttle. There's a set of boarding tubes there. Let's go!"

...

The captain's ears couldn't stop ringing. There had been a noise- painfully loud, and then the alarms had started. His stumbling feet guided him towards the Combat Information Center. Small droplets of red fell from the man's ears, and from a gash above one eye- and that damnable ringing noise still blocked out everything else.

Somewhere on the lower levels of the ship, there was another crash. Though the captain didn't hear it, the cruiser rocked perilously. An attendant rushed by, disregarding the man. "THE SENATORS!" the captain yelled, with one hand on his injured forehead. "WHAT'S HAPPENING TO THE SENATORS!"

An aide attempted to speak to him. Seeing the captain's injuries, the aide pulled out a datapad, and began typing furiously. 'Enemies aboard!' the device read. 'They've reached the brig. The Senators are escaping!'

The captain cursed. He felt his lips move, but could hear nothing coming out. His headache only intensified. It had been… what? A minute since that suicidal shuttle-pilot had rammed into his cruiser? Two minutes? However long it had been, the captain was still processing the damage to his ears. Everything was happening at once, in a blur of sparks, rushing crewmembers, and distant deafened noise.

Then the man - _the ship's doctor, perhaps?_ \- ushered the captain into the CIC. He typed on the datapad, and looked at a few readings. 'The senators are gone,' the doctor typed. 'Escape pod launches have been detected on the lower decks. It's over.'

A loud popping noise reverberated through the CIC, and the doctor stood up. He turned his head from one side to the other in a confused manner. Something was off, he knew. The room was strangely empty- save for a tall figure in Alliance N7 standard armor. The man raised one plated arm. There was a flash of red, and everything went black.

…...

"Today on Illium," the newscaster announced, as the camera panned sideways, "A terrorist attack on a truly massive scale was perpetrated by the group known as Cerberus. Involved in the attack were a pair of high-level diplomats, as well as a trio of human technicians. According to Illium's ground-security chief, Matriarch Aethyta, a search is underway for the fugitives. Matriarch Aethyta is optimistic about the results of the search."

"The matriarch, in an emergency press briefing, stated, ' _The perpetrators of these attacks won't be able to leave the atmosphere in anything larger than a shoebox. Rest assured, they will be found, and brought to justice._ ' In addition, the first human Spectre, presumed dead for six months, has resurfaced amid the chaos on Illium. I personally spoke to witnesses in Gate Alpha, the staging area from where the Matriarchal Senate and all petitioners were to depart for the Senate Building. Jane Shepard was seen fighting valiantly against Cerberus forces as they invaded the terminal, unleashing biotics on a scale usually seen in superhero movies and extranet fiction. She had this to say about her apparent death over the uninhabitable planet of Alchera."

" _Rumors of my death are both premature, and highly exaggerated._ " Shepard stated. " _I've been on an undercover mission for the last few months, and I felt that faking my death was the best way to draw out my targets. Needless to say, I will be resuming work with the Council in the near future._ "

"This has been Emily Wong, with _Citadel NewsNet_. Now I'll turn the program over to Diana Allers with _BattleSpace_ , for an in-depth review of the combat that took place in high orbit. Diana, I've heard that Cerberus forces had a dreadnought in orbit. How accurate is that?"

"Very accurate, Emily. New readings show that the Cerberus flagship was well over one kilometer-"  
The television shut off.

"Shepard!" Admiral David Anderson's voice burst from Jane's omni-tool. "We thought you were dead. What's this about an undercover operation?"

"Harry Potter felt that Cerberus would be planning something like this, and he invited me to join his investigation. Obviously," Jane fidgeted, keeping to the excuse she had agreed on with the wizard, "I no longer need to be undercover, since we took out these Cerberus cells."

"Alright." Anderson sounded convinced, but unhappy. "You could at least have told Alliance Intelligence. The propaganda department was particularly unhappy. They had to scrap a few million posters for distribution on some of the larger colonies. Bekenstein, Benning, you know the drill."

"Well," Shepard coughed, "I'm sorry to offend the boys back in the patriot factory. Put in good word for me?"

"Always, Shepard." the admiral laughed. "So how was the fighting on the ground?"

"It was a mess." she answered honestly. "And without Kechlu Industries' GARDIAN laser arrays, it would've been lost before it had begun."

"Sounds… explosive." Anderson muttered.

"Definitely. We wound up having to deflect anti-air missiles with biotic barriers. It was close." Shepard explained. "And the Illusive man's personal assassin didn't make things much easier."

"Kai Leng?" the old admiral was suddenly attentive. "Damn. He's a nasty piece of work. How'd he get away?"

"He didn't." Jane corrected. "I put an omni-blade through his ribcage."

"He's a tough bastard." Anderson worried. "I've seen him survive worse."

Shepard smiled. "Then I unloaded my Carnifex into his forehead."

"Ah." Anderson sounded mollified. "That would probably do it, then. I'm sure Alliance Intel will be happy to hear that somebody finally put that mad dog down."

"The only escapee," Jane continued, "Was a rather poorly-made clone of me. Just flesh grown around a computerized imprint, taken from an old MRI. She could still be dangerous, so I suggest you keep an eye out. I've already changed my passwords and such."

"I'll alert Intelligence. Thanks for the warning." The admiral stood to leave the holo-projection room. "And good luck, Jane."

"You too, sir." she replied, as the message went dark.

…

"Jane?" a voice murmured. "Shepard," the same voice stated. The commander's eyes flickered open. She let out a deep sigh, and stretched out under her blankets. For the umpteenth time, she thanked whatever deity was watching out for her that she had an actual bed, not a hard metal sleeping-pod. "Jane?" murmured the speakers on the other side of the room. "Doctor Chakwas requested that I was to inform you when the girl you found on Guevara regained consciousness. She has done so, and the good doctor is requesting your presence in the medical bay."

"Alright, I'll get up." Shepard muttered. Blearily, she rubbed her eyes, and pushed back the covers. Letting out a slight hiss at the room's temperature, she grabbed a towel and headed for the shower. "Tell Karin I'll be at the med-bay in ten minutes or so." Jane announced. "And thanks for the wake-up, EDI."

"You're welcome, Shepard."

...

"There you are." Chakwas stated, mildly disapproving, as the med-bay door hissed open. "You slept late, didn't you." She pointed at the chronometer on the wall. A slight tinge of red appeared in Jane's cheeks, as she noticed the time. By the shipboard clocks, it was around noon. "The only member of the day-shift still sleeping is mister Potter." As if on cue, the disheveled wizard stumbled through the door, followed by the four-man Auror team. He ran a hand through his hair, and straightened himself up. He poked a finger into his mouth, and the smell of mint filled the room.

"Refreshing charm." he explained, for the benefit of all the muggles in the room. "Brushes your teeth for you. Well, that's the idea, anyway." He looked around for a second, before he focused on Joker, who was just leaving the door. "Jeff!Wait a second!" the wizard called. "I keep forgetting to give you this…" he explained, passing the pilot a bottle full of murky liquid. "It's Skele-Grow. If this won't fix your bones, nothing short of blood-magic will." he shrugged. "Drink it all." he encouraged. "It'll probably hurt a bit for an hour or two, but the benefits outweigh the pain."

The pilot squinted cautiously at the bottle, before downing its contents with a gulp. He waved, and vanished out the door. Chakwas stared disbelieving between the wizard and the door.

Harry held out a hand, and a steaming teacup filled to the brim with a delicious black liquid materialized. A sugar cube and a small quantity of milk poured themselves from nothingness into the cup. A shining spoon began to swirl the liquid around, seemingly of it's own volition. "Can I offer refreshments?" Harry asked. "Coffee, tea, spiders?"

"Spiders?" Chakwas asked, head tilted sideways in curiousity. Harry grinned, and conjured a tall mason jar, capped with a screw-on air-tight top. And there, squirming wildly inside the jar, were hundreds if not thousands of spiders of all different types. A visible shudder passed through almost everyone in the room, before the jar - spiders and all - vanished as if it had never existed at all. Doctor Chakwas shuddered, and made a small noise of disgust.

"That's my favorite party trick, by far." Harry smirked. "A friend of mine hated spiders, so I used to send him bottles of them in the mail, with a timed vanishing charm on the bottle." He conjured another bottle, and vanished it just as quickly.

"That's complex non-linear conjuration, that is." one of the aurors murmured, vaguely impressed.

"Either that, or one of the best illusions I've seen in my entire career." another replied.

"Shh." Auror Diggory III interjected. "We're here to talk to the girl that was recovered on Guevara."

"She's just back here." the doctor turned, and walked back towards the end of the ward, where a large bundle of blankets rested on a bed."Lyra?" she spoke softly. "There are a few people here to see you."

"Huh?" the bundle of blankets sat up, revealing a young girl. She looked towards Harry and the aurors, and frowned. "Are you related to Harry Potter?" the girl - _Lyra_ \- asked. "Dad showed me pictures," she explained shamelessly. "And you look a lot like him."

"I _am_ Harry Potter," the wizard said. "And I've got the scars to prove it." he pulled his hair aside, showing a faded lightning-bolt shaped scar, now almost faded. The girl's mouth dropped open, and her eyes opened wide. "We're looking for your dad." Harry added. "But we need to know who he is, first. And who you are." he held out a hand to shake. "I'm Harry Potter. Who are you?" he asked kindly.

"I'm Lyra Malfoy." the girl squeaked. "And my dad is Draco Malfoy." Harry froze for a split-second, but composed himself and shook the girl's hand.

"We'll do our best to find him as soon as we can." he stepped back. "Now I think these Aurors have a few questions. Is that alright?"

"Uhm.. I think so?" the girl replied, leaning back on her pillows. "I'm a little hungry." she looked downcast, until Harry reached into a bag at his hip, and pulled out a shrunken english breakfast on a tray. He enlarged it with a wave, and cancelled a stasis charm.

"Eat up, Lyra." he waved, as he levitated both the tray and a tall glass of orange juice in her direction. She fumbled with the glass, and caught it before it spilled. Harry looked down at his omni-tool, and back up. "I'll be right back." he seemed preoccupied. "I've got to take this call."

"Okay!" the girl replied, missing his worried tone. Harry smiled, and stepped out of the doorway. It slid shut behind him.

Jane watched as he pulled out a chair at the vacant crew common-area. Visible through a window in the med-bay, he opened his omni-tool. An incoming call, blinking urgently, obscured most of the screen. Shepard caught a glimpse of a quarian helmet before the wizard deactivated his omni-tool's screen, and held the device up to his ear.

Clearly, Harry was agitated by whatever he was hearing. His brows inched closer together and further downwards on his face with every passing minute, and while one hand held his omni-tool to his ear, the other continuously burst into flame before putting itself out over and over again.

Finally, Harry moved his omni-tool over his mouth, and spoke into it. Muted by the pane of glass between them, Jane could only just make out a few words. Finally, the wizard slumped. He closed his omni-tool, and looked up. He met Shepard's eyes, seeming older than she'd ever seen him. Finally, Harry lowered his gaze, and stood. He stepped slowly towards the med-bay door, and opened it with a wave of his hand.

"There's been a pair of attacks." he began, speaking to everyone in the med-bay. "It looks like Cerberus sabotaged the defenses on a moderately-populated colony called Fehl Prime, out in the Terminus Systems." he paused. "Ten blood-pack troop-ships landed half an hour later. The colony's getting hammered, and there have been sightings of a Collector ship only a couple relays away. They might try and take advantage of the fighting to kidnap civilians." There was a minute of stunned silence. "And that's not all. It looks like a Cerberus cell figured out how to disable FTL plotting devices. They gave their prototype to a turian separatist group before Cerberus command wiped the cell. The separatists just put it on a shuttle, and engaged faster-than-light travel while pointing at Vallum, the capital city of Taetrus. The result was a blast so powerful that the shockwaves were destroying buildings more than eleven kilometers away. Casualties still unknown."

"How long-" Chakwas' voice quivered. "How long ago?"

"I just got the news." Harry explained, pacing the room. "Chronologically, the attack on Fehl Prime started three hours ago. It's been half an hour since Vallum was bombed." Silence once again permeated the room. "Shepard, I'd like to take the Nyx to Vallum." he announced, as if asking permission. "I've got some data about the terrorists that Turian High Command probably doesn't. I can probably bring them to justice more easily than the authorities."

"Go ahead." Shepard allowed. "We'll go to Fehl Prime, and take out the mercenaries."

"Alright." Harry replied, giving Jane a silent nod of thanks, and a wink. "Good luck." he stepped forwards and extended a hand, but Jane turned the handshake into a hug. "Be careful." she whispered into his ear. Harry kissed her cheek, and vanished with a crack.

"You're free to stay aboard to care for Miss Malfoy," Shepard called to the four red-robed aurors laughing and joking with the young Malfoy girl. "We're traveling, but we'll happily grant you food and quarters." Diggory III nodded in thanks, and resumed conversation with the girl.

"Joker?" Shepard muttered.

"Plotting a course." the pilot replied. "Let's just hope this doesn't blow up in all our faces."

…

 **[** _ **Most**_ **of this next part isn't mine; I've just modified it a little. It's part of 'Cerberus Daily News,' which is fascinating. I recommend you all check it out. Just google Cerberus Daily News. The second link is an indexed list of all official entries.]**

Just past eleven-hundred hours, Citadel NewsNet's primary channel opened a 'Breaking News!' screen, and switched its live coverage from one newsfeed to another. A debate over the Batarian Hegemony's self-proclaimed status as a 'Rogue State' was replaced by video taken of a stunning explosion. "Our top story tonight: terror on Taetrus. Vallum, the colony's capital, was hit with a blast that obliterated its downtown area and left a crater five kilometers wide. Shockwaves from the blast were powerful enough to destroy buildings 11 kilometers away. Casualties are unknown but are expected to be massive. The Radiatum, Taetrus' parliamentary building, was at the epicenter of the blast and is believed to be its primary target. No registered armed ships were in orbit or in the sky above Vallum, leading authorities to believe the blast was caused by a ship used as a weapon of tremendous force, aimed at the Radiatum and accelerated to near-FTL speed. Fourteen separatist groups are claiming responsibility at this time."

...

"A video surfaced today of the shocking capture of many high-ranking members of the separatist group Facinus." the newscaster announced around twelve-hundred hours the next day, as a high-definition video popped up onscreen behind her. "It appears the terrorists were live-streaming their celebration of the Vallum Blast. Recordings of the footage shows noted separatist Kihilix Tanus praising pilot Vamire Squaron for his successful aiming of a private vessel and ejecting from it before it accelerated to its hyperlethal speed. The conversation implies that Squaron bypassed the ship's safety protocols by installing an improvised FTL plotter, using an archaic design no longer in service throughout Citadel space. The vid also shows Tanus criticizing the Turian Hierarchy for failing to respond to the Kingu asteroid near-impact crisis on the planet Belan. It should be noted that said crisis was averted when an unknown ship unloaded dreadnought-level firepower on the dangerous asteroid. ' _They are old xemna [herd animals], only responding when they themselves are jabbed_ ,' Tanus was quoted on the issue. He then threatened a storm of lightspeed vessels, one for every week that Taetrus remains ' _subject to the human-appeasing lackeys that run imperialist space,_ ' referring to the Hierarchy and Citadel species. The celebration continued for a few minutes, before the entire area was seen to shake violently. The camera itself appears to have fallen from a piece of furniture, and rolled sideways at this point in the film." the newscaster announced. "But clearly visible is an armored human engaging in heavy combat with the terrorist gathering." the newscaster sounded extremely interested. "A few moments later, a turian is seen crawling into the video's frame of view." she pointed. "After closer analysis with facial-recognition software, the turian appears to be Vamire Squaron, the pilot responsible for the devastation of the Vallum Blast. The armored human then proceeds to casually shoot his stun-gun an unnecessary but highly satisfying sixteen times into Squaron's chest." the video played in slow-motion. "It should be noted that our liaison with Turian High Command has stated that she is forbidden from speaking about the human in question, and that any information leading to the man's whereabouts, or the whereabouts of Vamire Squaron and the rest of Facinus leadership will be highly rewarded."

...

"Breaking news!" the same newscaster announced just past eighteen-hundred hours. "The Systems Alliance hero, Harry Potter, delivered the top twelve members of the terrorist group Facinus into custody of the turian military at 1350 hours, Taetrus time." A picture of a sleek black shuttle popped up on the screen behind the newscaster. "On his own, Mister Potter captured and delivered the criminals to the Primarch's temporary military command-base on the outskirts of Vallum." the news anchor explained. "His actions have a lot of military analysts scratching their heads," the man added. "And some of the advisors we've spoken to were actually worried by the sheer level of competency shown by mister Potter. The question, according to Leev Paranciel, Council Spectre, is whether Potter is just the normal result of Alliance N7 training, or simply an incredibly skilled individual. Recently unearthed classified material shows that Harry Potter did set records during his time in special forces- but was barely surpassed by Jane Shepard, the first human Spectre. Next, more news from Taetrus, this time about the grim situation at the center of the blast in Vallum. Take it away, Felix." The scene changed to a different news anchor, in a similar desk.

"The search for survivors in the rubble on Taetrus continues." began the commentator, as pictures of the blast zone flickered past on a screen behind him. "Only sixteen trapped people have been recovered alive, and experts say the chances of finding more survivors are slim. Bulldozers and heavy cranes are removing debris from the city's four major highways, along with a few powerful biotics." A video of a building off in the distance levitating itself off a roadway accompanied the newscaster's remark. "Only a handful of aerial ambulances have made it to the interior of the rubble, but a massive _quarian_ volunteer relief force arrived early this morning, and has begun searching the debris." the turian's surprise was nearly palpable. "Firefighter Extan Relius says that there is little hope for those in the central crater: "The impact didn't just knock buildings over; it picked them up and dropped them." New calculations indicate that even this massive blow was relatively mild compared to what it could have been - the ship involved was only starting its acceleration to FTL speeds, and achieved a velocity just under that of a mass accelerator bullet before contact. This is Citadel NewsNet, covering the relief effort on Taetrus. We'll keep Vallum in our hearts. Goodnight."

…

"I've got some good news, Shepard."

"What is it, EDI?"

"Mordin -crazy scientist though he is- managed to come up with a countermeasure to the seeker swarms Harry's data showed. When we next go up against the collectors, we'll be protected."

"Wonderful. Now let me go back to bed."

…

The Normandy SR-2 arrived in the Fehl system in a wash of blue-shifted energy and harmless radiation. Barely stopping for a second, the ship's engines flared blue, launching the cruiser sunwards, towards Fehl Prime.

"I'm detecting a modified blood-pack frigate landed on Fehl Prime's second moon." EDI spoke up. "It appears mostly unarmed, with enlarged berths for cargo, or larger transport or combat-craft like troopships and shuttles. The frigate's engines also differ from the norm. They seem to be much larger than the norm. They're also fusion torches, unlike most frigates belonging to long-standing established mercenary groups, which tend to use antiproton drives harvested or stolen from military surplus craft."

"So the Blood Pack frigate is more of a workhorse than a warship." Jane summarized. "I'll assume that ship carried all the troop transports that are now terrorizing the colony?"

"You are correct." EDI confirmed. "They used inferior firewalls. I've already sabotaged it." She seemed hesitant when she spoke up a second later, though. "The frigate also contains a large quantity of volus pesticide. Under normal conditions, it can be used as a fuel-air bomb. Cerberus did hire the mercenaries to destroy the colony, after all."

"That's not good. Can you tell me why isn't there an Alliance task-force here already?" Jane frowned.

"Unknown," the AI replied. "It is probable that a detachment of marines is already planetside, but the Alliance may have been unable to secure a cruiser or frigate detachment due to tensions with Terminus warlords."

"Explain."

"The main reason why the Terminus Systems are a legitimate political entity is access," EDI began. "There's always been a bottleneck, since there exist only six known relays allowing access to the Terminus systems as a whole. Four to five - the Phoenix Massing cluster as a whole changes hands from one petty warlord to another on a monthly basis - of those are guarded by warlords who tend to violently tax goods, and deny access to entities or organizations whose motives they disagree with. So it's entirely possible that the Systems Alliance was only able to purchase passage for a few shuttles worth of troops, rather than a few frigates or a cruiser. It's also likely that they've purchased tickets for a larger force into the Terminus Systems from Illium, all the way on the other side of the galaxy. But since the Normandy SR-2 is an extremely fast ship, it only took around a day for us to arrive. Anderson's fleet is probably twelve to sixteen hours behind us," EDI added. "After the fight in orbit, they may have stopped to rearm."

"Damn."

"A closer fleet is stationed around the Century system, but they'd have to pass through Omega." EDI noted. "And Aria, on behalf of the rest of the Terminus Systems, taxes the military vessels of Council Races above all other classes of craft by multiple orders of magnitude."

"And the turians haven't cleaned the whole area up because they don't want a diplomatic incident." Shepard drearily paraphrased the rhetoric used to justify non-involvement in the Terminus Systems for the last millennia.

"Exactly." the AI stated. "And while they delay, the Terminus systems merely become more violent and fall deeper into poverty." Jane stared at the speaker, surprised that EDI felt so vehemently about the issue. Her voice had seemed, for a moment, to be displaying genuine feeling. As if sensing Shepard's raised eyebrows, the AI spoke up again to curtail her surprise. "That's a fact, Shepard. Based off of empirical evidence, not just theory and speculation."

"It's okay to have opinions." Shepard grinned, "I've got more than enough of them. And I agree. The situation in the Terminus systems is just getting worse, but I feel like there's nothing I can personally do about it. Not right now, at least." The AI was quiet for a few long moments.

"Thank you, Shepard." EDI murmured a minute later. "Nobody but Joker has ever spoken to me with that level of honesty."

"You're welcome." the woman replied. "Feel free to talk to me whenever you want."

"We're approaching the colony's center, Shepard." EDI announced, regretfully ending their conversation. "I've detected wreckage of two Alliance troop-transports. We may be all the defense these civilians have."

"It's Elysium all over again." Jane muttered. "We're just missing the biotic wizard."

Overhearing her, Garrus let out a grim chuckle. "You've got a team this time." he added. "But I'd still prefer the biotic wizard." he joked.

"We'll be dropping at the colony center." Shepard said. "I'll be engaging in some diplomacy with the colonists, make sure they know we're not trying to kill them."

"Don't we have contact with the colony?" Miranda spoke up. "Or are we keeping radio silence so the Blood Pack troops don't know about us?"

"Neither," explained EDI. "We're being jammed, signal source unknown."

" _That's_ a good sign." Kasumi muttered. "You want me to cloak and find it once we're groundside?"

"Yeah." Jane decided. "Take the shuttle with you. The jammer's probably a few miles out into the wilderness. Short-range radio should be operational, but we'll probably be out of contact with anything less than tight-beam laser-comms."

"Got it, Shepard." the tech-specialist replied with a nod.

"Landing in thirty seconds." Edi's voice crackled over the speakers, as the shuttle's floor lurched through deceleration. A simulated visual of the craft on the outside of the door moved closer and closer to the animated ground. The door opened with a hiss, showing the ground approaching rapidly past the rushing alien breeze. All around, prefabricated buildings made white squares in the otherwise green and rolling hilly landscape, as night fell. Off in the distance, occasional glowing lines blasted into the sky- the atmospheric effects of mass effect weapons. Soon the shuttle swooped lower. More gunshots were visible a mile or two from the outskirts of the colony, but there was nothing within the colony proper.

"It appears that some of the Alliance task force survived the crash-landing of their shuttles." EDI murmured. They've been protecting the colony since the beginning of the attack."

The craft touched down with a whirr and a hiss, as the exterior of the craft sizzled against the cool grass beneath it. A gathering of flashlight-waving civilians in a nearby field scattered wildly.

"We're human!" Shepard called out, amplifying her voice through her suit's speakers. "We're here to help!"

"It's darker out here than I thought it would be." Tali murmured. "This-"

"Overlaying thermal-vision on your visors. This should help." EDI's voice transmitted. "Good luck."  
"Alright." Jane spoke. "Let's go. I'll head towards the colonists and try to chaperone them towards safety." She pointed to an especially large pre-fabricated building in the center of the colony. "Everyone else spread out and cover the area. I don't want anyone sneaking up on us." A murmured chorus of affirmatives returned from her squad, as she stepped towards the group of colonists. They shined their flashlights - _mostly in the form of omni-tool attachments_ \- at her. She put a hand over her helmet, blocking the worst of the glare. "Satisfied that I'm human yet?" she called out. Murmured hushing noises and worried voices replied, over the sound of some alien cricket-like creature.

"Who are you?" an urgent voice hissed. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to help." Shepard whispered back. "I've got a team securing the area."

"Thank god." a tearful woman's voice sobbed.

"No," Jane replied, "Thank the Systems Alliance." Then, louder, "I'd like everyone to head for the big building over there." she directed a laser-pointer attached to her pistol towards the building in question. "My team and I can protect you best if you're all in one place."

"Yes, ma'am." a few replied thankfully, beginning to make their way towards the building labeled 'Town Hall'." Soon the rest followed, helping the old or injured limp and stumble along.

"Here they come." Garrus's voice played through the ground crew's helmets. "Contacts north, north-west. We've got a few armored humans being chased by a significant krogan force. That looks like the Alliance team."

"Alright." Jane turned away from the colonists, focusing her attention on the mercenary issue. "Everyone move north, towards Garrus's position. I want covering fire for the humans, and I want everyone with a sniper rifle to start picking off those mercenaries."

"Uhh… Shepard?" Garrus spoke up, voice uncertain. "They've got a tank."

"...Of course they do."

…

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Feel free to PM me or review.

Also, I've been seeing some confusion about the Andromeda Initiative. That scene was just some foreshadowing / chekov's gun type stuff. Since I plan to make a sequel in Mass Effect: Andromeda, I introduced the Andromeda Initiative a bit early. They won't really be showing up much more(if at all).


	16. Fraternization

Here's Chapter 16!

By the way, I've edited and added stuff to the scene in CH5 where Harry kills the Reaper on Lethe. It should clear up a lot of confusion. (or make more.)

Enjoy!

…..

"Tell me about the tank."

"It's a krogan Tomkah, with anti-personnel guns on the roof, so watch out. It's got painted-on flames, probably for extra speed." The turian mumbled, mostly serious.

"Anyone got any anti-armor weapons?" Jane asked. There was a lingering silence through the radio channel. Then her hand went to the holdout pistol on her wrist. Harry had said that it packed a punch. And if the mad wizard with a penchant for weapons of mass destruction, fire, and explosions thought a weapon was powerful, well… "I think I've got a plan." Shepard stated, tentative. "I'm not sure how well it'll work." She cautioned. "I'll need to contact EDI. And Garrus, Just so that I don't have to biotic-charge a tank _ever again_ , I'm getting you a Spectre-grade M-98 Widow when we get back to the Citadel. Thank me later."

…

James Vega was busy running for his life. This was a fairly common occurrence- he was in Alliance Special Forces, after all. Not an N-school ICT-training-program graduate, but damn close. So he found himself facing the unexpected on a fairly frequent basis.

But this was a whole 'nother level of unexpected. Even the laws of probability seemed to scoff at him.

The whole mission on Fehl Prime was a fuckup- Intel had sent him and the rest of his guys to defend the colony against krogan mercenaries. But that just about summed up all the data they'd been given. They hadn't been told that the krogan mercenary force on Fehl Prime represented a significant fraction of the entire Blood Pack organization, galaxy-wide. Hundreds of krogan had been waiting for them at their landing side. _Somebody had betrayed them._ They'd been sent to their deaths. It was only a stroke of luck that they'd survived the missiles that had destroyed their shuttle. The guys on the other shuttle -team Bravo- hadn't been so lucky. They'd been vaporized mid-air.

Vega and his team had been running ever since, picking off the pursuing krogan wherever possible. Trip mines, grenades, precision sniper-fire, and ambushes were all they'd been able to think of for the last two days. Almost dead on their feet, Vega and his men had been prevailing against the krogan, despite their numbers. Two hundred against twelve. Well, Vega mused to himself, There were around a hundred less krogan than there were the day before. He'd done a _damn_ good job. He'd gone above and beyond every expectation so many times… Why was this any different?

 _Thump-thump-thump-thump-_ Lungs heaving, breathing agony, Vega found himself sprinting for the colony's outer reaches. He'd have cover there, he knew. And cover meant defense, rather than waiting for a krogan tank to come run him down for sport. Cover meant _survival_. Meant he'd live for another few minutes, max. Maybe he'd get a monument. His own personal Alamo, out in the ass-end of the galaxy.

He'd been sprinting for what felt like hours, and the colony was closer- but still too far. Mentally, the marine cursed the colony's planners- What sort of strategist put a population center in a valley? Fehl Prime had to be one of the least defensible colonies he'd ever visited. It was just his luck, Vega figured. Maybe if he'd been more careful, this wouldn't have happened. Retreating across an open plain, in clear view of hostile armor and infantry. Hah! Vega could've cried from laughter. That sort of strategy - _if strategy it could be called_ \- hadn't been in use since World War Two.

In some place in the back of his mind, Vega wished he'd caught a few hours of sleep before doing something this reckless. But he hadn't. And he'd paid for it- his squad had paid for it. They'd planned an ambush, but hadn't counted on the krogan having heavy armor. Where they'd hidden the Tomkah, he had no idea. But he certainly hadn't seen anything like it in the last two days.

Honestly, he was just surprised that his whole 12-man squad was still standing. Well, running. Behind him, he heard the massive engine on the tomkah revving wildly. The **thud-thud-thud** of the motor drew closer, overwhelming the rhythm of Vega's own desperate footsteps.

He almost stumbled, looping his foot around a root. He turned to see the oncoming tank, traveling entirely too fast for it to be anything other than violently customized. He stopped, trying to make his peace. He tried to remind himself that this wasn't his fault. That he couldn't have predicted this. That it the blame wasn't his- that it wasn't _fair_. If this was it… -But he couldn't find any sort of resolve, any well of bravery. He was just tired, and filthy, and sore. He had a through-and-through bullet wound halfway down one bicep, and it had been slowly bleeding for hours. He'd run out of medi-gel a day ago.

He wasn't going to die with honor. Not even with decency. He was just going to die phenomenally pissed off.

And maybe he'd take some of those blood-pack bastards with him. Facing the oncoming tank, Vega opened fire, shooting wildly. Shots glanced off its plating, launching sparks every-which-way as the vehicle barreled towards the marine. He knew he was yelling, but he couldn't quite tell what. Profanity? Or just a drawn-out cry of defiance? His rifle's heatsink overloaded, and ejected out the bottom of the gun with a _plink_.

And then, just as the tank closed the distance, Vega spotted a blue flash out of the corner of his eye. A rifle? A missile? A flashlight? He didn't particularly care. He'd be dead either way. But then the blue flash was _there_ , in front of him.

Along with the Tomkah, stopped dead in its tracks, barely twenty feet away. An armored woman wielding a pathetically small pistol pulled her entire arm from the front grille of the krogan vehicle, shaking it as if it had fallen asleep. Hearing the engine rev again, the woman pointed the holdout-pistol at the tank, and pulled the trigger as fast as she could. A thunderous roar of six incredibly powerful shots slammed into the tank, flipping it onto it's side, and cracking an axle. A half-dozen smoking basketball-sized craters marred the tomkah's painted armor, as the engine stuttered and coughed, belching black smoke.

The woman tossed the pistol to one side, as it practically melted apart in her hands. Drawing something larger, she pulled an assault rifle from her back.

"Back here!" she yelled to Vega's team, as friendly sniper-fire raked by overhead. A tinny turian voice in the woman's ear made a few muted sounds of surprise, and the woman laughed. Vega's team, nearly frozen in shock, managed to get themselves behind the makeshift cover that was the crashed tomkah. Extending a canister of medi-gel to Vega, the woman introduced herself.

"Jane Shepard." she smiled, despite the furious krogans howling in the background. "I'm your backup."

"Shepard?" Vega wheezed. "News said you died."

"I faked it." Jane yelled, over the gunfire pinging off the tomkah's armor. "I had a mission." She offered no further explanation. Friendly sniper fire buzzed over the tomkah, picking off the krogan infantry. "Just like we planned, EDI." Shepard muttered, voice being picked up by the microphone in her helmet. "Be careful, okay? Take the wind's trajectory into account, and all that?"

"I'm not an amatuer." The AI's voice replied, mildly disapproving. "Simple turbulence equations account for even the most miniscule atmospheric changes. Fuel-air bombs are child's-play, compared to kinetic barrier calculations and string gravitics."

"Good." Jane confirmed. Then she turned towards Vega. "Let's get the hell out of here. Now."

"Yes ma'am," the marine responded. He'd caught the words 'fuel-air bomb.' He'd seen those before. They weren't pretty. "Following you." he added, as she just stared at him.

"No, you start running. I'm gonna biotic-charge out of the way." Jane explained, strangely calm. "I'll cover your retreat as long as I can."

"Oh." Vega pulled himself off the ground, and took off again in a dead sprint for the colony. "Crazy woman's dropping a bomb!" he yelled through his squad's comms channel. "Get to the colony! Shit, Shit!" Muttered expletives and heavy breaths echoed from his squadmates, as they kept running.

A screaming noise, high in the sky, grew louder and louder. A flash of white and black passed low overhead. A second later, a sonic boom echoed through the valley, rattling windows and walls alike. A massive white cloud of mist hissed soundlessly from hundreds of falling specks. As they fell closer, the black dots revealed themselves to be canisters of aerosolized chemicals.

A streak of blue traveled in a second from the overturned tank back to the colony, passing over Vega's head by a few feet. A few seconds later, the heavy mist occluded the scattered ranks of charging krogan mercenaries.

There was a spark.

The sky turned red. A shockwave launched Vega and his squad forwards, tumbling head-over-heels. A monstrous sucking roar of an explosion filled the air. Towering clouds of black smoke rose into the atmosphere, trailing blazing flame.

Vega skidded to a stop at the edge of the colony's fortifications. He groaned, thankful that he hadn't hit anything vital when the shockwave hit him.

"See that?" Shepard's voice came from somewhere above him. "It's all biodegradable, too."

…..

"Shepard, I found the jamming signal." Kasumi's voice played. Her voice quivered a little.

"Great." Shepard sat up with a smile.

"It's some sort of bio-electric device." Kasumi explained, in an odd tone. "I think it might have come from the Collectors."

"That complicates things."

"You bet it does." The cerberus defector groaned.

"We'll need to wait for the Alliance task force to get here, tell them about the problem, and try to convince them to bring in some orbital defenses." Jane pondered. "But let's dismantle the jamming signal first."

"We really need to end the Collectors." Kasumi said.

"Yes." Jane scowled. "We do."

...

"This is the Systems Alliance Twelfth Scout Flotilla. Fehl Prime colony base, please respond."

"This is Fehl Prime. We hear you, Scout Flotilla."

"Fehl Prime, intel suggests that you were under attack by a significant mercenary force." a technician said. Suspicion oozed from his voice.

"Spectre Jane Shepard and her crew arrived around ten hours ago. They've since neutralized all known hostiles." There was a brief bit of static at the end of the colony's transmission, before a different voice began speaking.

"This is Jane Shepard, Council Spectre. Alliance fleet, what's your status?"

"Fully armed and operational. How was the fighting when you arrived?"

"Tense. The hostile krogan had a tank. The colony suffered minimal civilian casualties, and half of the Special Forces team sent to reinforce it died when their shuttle was shot down. The other shuttle's passengers survived the fighting intact, though suffering from moderate dehydration and an assortment of superficial wounds." Shepard paused. "There is one more issue." she explained. "The Collectors have been abducting human colonies; I'm on their trail. But we found a jamming device of Collector origin out in the wilderness. I'd appreciate if you could pass it on to Alliance Intelligence."

"Understood. We'll be landing a frigate outside the colony's limits, if that's acceptable."

"You've got clearance, Alliance flotilla. Best of luck to you."

"You as well. Twelfth fleet out."

Shepard spoke with the colonists for a few hours more, exploring Fehl Prime and all it had to offer. Then Kasumi brought in the shuttle, and they departed. Over the comms, she'd spoken briefly with Admiral Anderson again, just so that they could catch up with each other. It had been almost purely business over Illium, but in orbit of Fehl Prime, they discussed much more serious topics. The Collectors. Jane's death. The Reapers. Shepard leaned her forehead against the observation window of the Normandy SR-2, once the shuttle arrived at the cruiser. She wished she could go back to the time when she'd just been serving under Anderson's command. Everything was so much simpler, back then… Well, it really hadn't, she realized. Even before Eden Prime, she'd been a bit of a celebrity. Not a Spectre, not the savior of the Citadel, or any of the other names the media came up with for her. But she'd still been a 'Lion of Elysium,' after the Skyllian Blitz. She was an N7; one of the best.

Jane Shepard didn't do normal.

"Our next lead," she spoke over the operations-crew comm channel, "was a krogan scientist on Korlus with ties to the collectors." A fond look passed fleetingly across her face as she skimmed over a message. "According to Harry, Okeer has been dead for a few weeks now." She skimmed down her inbox, reading email headings. With a digital 'ping!' another email arrived from Harry. Marked urgent, it contained only five words, all capitalized.

COLLECTORS AT FERRIS FIELDS NOW

"Joker, set a course for Ferris Fields. There's a collector attack underway." Jane spoke, surprising herself with how even her voice was. Perhaps she'd just become used to this sort of thing. "And EDI, put together a message for Anderson. I'd like it if he'd be able to follow us to the colony with his fleet."

"Already done." the AI said. "Message away."

With a lurch, the Normandy SR-2 disappeared into FTL with a blue-shifted wash of cherenkov radiation.

The ship arrived in the Ferris System, and instantly activated its stealth programs. With a flicker, it became invisible to every sort of sensor except for the naked eye.

"Take us in, Joker." Shepard muttered. She was nervous- nothing was showing up on orbital scans of the colony. No ships were in the upper atmosphere, not even any satellites. Joker turned up the engines, and the planet grew larger on the CIC's projectors.

"I am detecting collector comm traffic." EDI announced a few minutes later. The ground crew and the four aurors had gradually found their way to the shuttlebay, where they'd be departing for the surface. "The Collectors seem to be broadcasting a request for assistance from other collector vessels." It was difficult for an AI to sound surprised- but EDI succeeded. "There are no records of any collector vessel ever giving a distress signal."

"So it's a trap?" Jane said. "Do we want to spring it?"

"I don't think they're trying to lure us in." EDI said. "I'm detecting active civilian comms relays in the colony. They aren't sending anything, but they're still operational. That's the first of a small list of inconsistencies between this event and other documented abductions. The other major difference is that the distress signal, from what I can tell, is legitimate."

"Wonderful. More unknowns." Shepard sighed. "Well, we're going in anyway. May as well bring a few extra heatsinks."

…...

"I'm receiving a transmission from Harry Potter." EDI said. "It's a pre-recorded warning. I'll play it on your omni-tool."

"Thanks." Shepard said, as a screen appeared on her wrist.

" _Hello, Normandy!"_ the message began. " _This is your resident wizard. I'm about to do something silly, and I figure there are some things you should know. Mainly, that a collector ship was trying to hide somewhere in the northern hemisphere. I've found it, and I plan to board and disable everything. They also have civilians aboard. Hundreds, or even thousands of them. So don't try to blast it out of existence. Um.. That's all, I think. Be safe."_

"Of all the stupid, reckless things to do," Jane groaned. Overhearing her, one of the aurors laughed.

"Ma'am, this is _Harry Potter_ we're talking about." the red-robed figure said. ' _Dawlish'_

read his nametag, in white lettering. Shepard couldn't help but feel like the auror was just the slightest bit condescending. "I'm not sure what he's told you," the auror continued, "but his exploits were legendary, before he disappeared sometime around two-thousand-ten. Tales of his special brand of insanity are still bandied around in the halls of power whenever someone starts talking about an 'unassailable' position, or a 'perfectly hidden' safe-house. I guess you could say that Harry Potter was the wizard version of James Bond." Shepard was about to deliver a snippy response, when EDI's voice ended the conversation.

"I've received additional information about the collector ship." The AI said. "It appears to have taken a significant amount of damage." a picture appeared on a nearby screen, and EDI's voice grew excited. "The craft's engines have been rendered useless, and the entire ship seems to have been knocked from its vertical take-off position onto the ground. It is likely that it will be unable to lift itself into orbit without significant maintenance."

"What's the catch?" Shepard said.

"Its entire crew complement is swarming the craft's exterior. Extracting anything will be an ordeal, as the collector forces appear to be surrounding all the ship's airlocks."  
"Any sign of Harry?" Jane said.

"Nothing." EDI replied. "Although the black smoke pouring from the starboard airlocks seems to be one of the normal results of mister Potter's presence." Then, a moment later, "And the ship has activated a self-destruct sequence. Also a common occurrence for hostile craft in the wizard's vicinity."

"How long is the timer, and how destructive will the blast be?"

"Thirty seconds. The drive core is overloading- Wait. The drive core's signature has vanished." The AI seemed perplexed. "Caution!" she cried out, as the Normandy lurched. All aboard the cruiser grasped at handholds and railings, as the ship executed an aerial about-face.

"Harry's frigate is shooting the collector ship!" Joker said over the intercom. On the screen, a blast of blue thundered into the downed collector craft. There was a burst of static. The Collector craft vanished amidst an ever-expanding shockwave travelling outwards from the blast's point of impact.

"Get us out of atmosphere, Joker. That shockwave could shake us up pretty well." Shepard said.

"I thought there were civilians on board?" Tali said. Nobody replied.

Jane's omni-tool lit up like a beacon, as her ringtone signalled an incoming call. She checked the caller ID, announced, "It's Harry!" and picked up. The wizard's familiar face appeared on her omni-tool's screen, sporting a wide smile.

"Hey!" Harry said. "I thought I recognized that ship!" he laughed, beginning to come down from an adrenaline high. "Glad you guys got my message. I've got news."

"Tell me about the Collector ship." Shepard said. "You said that there were civilians onboard. Then you blew it all up. What changed?"

"Yeah-" the wizard said, as he pulled a bulging bag of something from a pocket. "-I got them all out." he put his arm up to the elbow into the bag, and pulled out a small glass marble. With a _finite incantatem,_ a woman in heavy cold-weather gear and an oxygen mask materialized where the marble hovered. Harry waved his wand, and the woman transformed back into a marble with a flash. "And I've got some intel. The collectors live somewhere beyond the Omega 4 relay."

"You mean the one nobody's ever come back from?" Tali said. "That's… Actually plausible. They might just have a massive weapons battery on the other end, waiting for some poor bosh'tet to fly through."

"Not quite." Harry seemed thoughtful. "They do have some sort of a station there, but it's stuck in the accretion disk of a black hole."

"How do you know?"  
"I ripped it from the mind of one of the drones. Got lucky, really. The one I chose was one of only a few collector infantry to perform repairs on the outside of one of the ships."

"You used legilimency?" one of the aurors said. "That's been illegal for decades!"  
"Check again." Harry fired back. "Mind-magic licenses given by the Department of Mysteries are valid until the literal end of time." The auror froze, and nodded.

"Yes, of course." he said. "They drill that into us in basic training."

"They told us about it in the orientation course for Unspeakables, as well. The Director seemed to think it was one of the most important things to remember in case you got involved in any time-travel shenanigans." Harry explained. "But we should probably talk in person. I found a lot more than that in the thing's head."

"Alright. Come aboard, and we can figure out where to go from here."

….

"That's what the drone could see." Harry said, looming over his pensieve. "I'll explain again- The collector base is orbiting a black hole. There's a sea of detritus in a similar orbit, and there are anti-ship batteries across the whole station. There are two capital ships, each somewhere between cruiser and dreadnought-length. Each has a small frigate compliment, for reconnaissance and cargo-transport. One of the dreadnoughts stays at the collector base and defends, while the other travels the galaxy."

"Did you learn anything about the relay? Why haven't any ships returned?"

"The drone knew very little about the relay." the wizard said. "But in whatever semblance of a mind it had, I found reference to a 'key' of some sort. Without it, any ship traveling through the relay would be knocked off course into the debris field, or into the black hole's event horizon, or into dark space."

"Perhaps some sort of Reaper Friend-or-Foe system." EDI spoke, then paused. "Setting a course for Mnemosyne."

"That's right!" Harry said, excited. "There's a dead Reaper there. We should be able to find the IFF, as long as the ship had one."

"Sovereign attacked the Citadel, though. In the Widow Nebula, not the Hawking Eta Cluster." Diggory said. "I think I'm missing something. Did you kill another Reaper?" he appeared to think that was farfetched.

"Yeah. A long time ago." Harry leaned forwards. "We can go over my extensive past another time. But that wasn't all I found in the Collector drone's head." He seemed preoccupied. "It caught a glimpse of something it shouldn't have. It wouldn't be able to recognize the signs, but I certainly can." The wizard leaned forwards in his seat. "Someone or something aboard the Collector base tried to summon something from another plane. Something powerful, too, judging by the amount of magic sloughing into the visible spectrum."

"That's impossible." Diggory said. Despite his disbelief, a spark of excitement flared up behind his eyes. "Nobody's succeeded with a summons in two hundred years. And I should know- I spent five years in the Department of Magical Security's research-and-development labs. They're still trying to find out how to call even the weakest of spirits."

"More like two thousand years." Harry said. "You shouldn't count Aleister Crowley's experiments as summonings. That squib just took advantage of an existing Genius Loci to convince those around him that he'd done the impossible. In the end, he was a fraud. But either way, the fewer outsiders on this plane of existence, the better. They're incredibly annoying to deal with if you let them get away from you."

"You've summoned extraplanars, then?" one of the aurors said. "That's incredible! I'd love to-"

"Not the time, Pyle." Diggory said. "Research later, mission now." He brought his attention back to Harry. "I know I'm not the only person who'd be interested in some of the intricacies of summoning." Diggory added. "Like how you created a secure connection to another plane without getting immolated by a pocket of antimatter, or how you hid all the weird atmospheric phenomena from the eyes of the magical populace."

"I did all my experimentation based on notes from a book I found in a hidden room in the ruins of the Etemenanki site, in the shattered ruins of Babylon." Harry explained. "I'm sure you're familiar with the Tower of Babel story?"

"The magical version, yes- twenty-five hundred years ago, the ancient Babylonians tried enslaving djinn to build an energy-collector of some sort to harvest Magic from a ley line somewhere in the stratosphere. Their summons turned on them and scattered them across all seven continents of the world, et cetera. That one?"

"Yeah." Harry said. "Well, it's a bit more than a story. I actually spoke to one of the Djinn who worked on the thing when I got back to Earth. See, over the last thousand years or so, they've formed a sort of coalition. A supernatural United Nations, if you will. Though their only stated goal is to keep earth safe against supernatural dangers."

"I'm gonna assume they saw you as a threat." Jane said.

"That's how I met one." Harry said. "I've been on this plane of existence for the better part of forty million years. They can detect things like age, and decided to go off the generalization that anything older than ten thousand probably hasn't got enough sanity left to understand morals. That, combined with the fact that they could sense a rather… unique… aura of mine from the moment I arrived in the Sol system, made them a bit worried. So when I came back to Earth, they decided to 'check in,' for lack of a better term."

"You don't mean the Shaitan Council?" Diggory's eyes opened wide. "We haven't heard from them since the Purity fanatics bombed the Council of Magical Beings."

"Don't worry. They're still around." Harry said. "They nearly killed me on general principle."

"Only you could fuck something up that badly." Jane murmured.

"Hey!" Harry said, only half-seriously. "I'll have you know that it was just the once, and only due to a combination of poor communication and a few misunderstandings."

"Could you explain a little more for the rest of us mere mortals?" Joker said, as he walked into the room. "EDI's got the helm." he added for Jane's benefit, as she glared at him.

"This is what I've gathered over the past few decades." Harry began, seeing interest in the eyes of his audience. "I'll paraphrase what a mentor of mine told me, sometime in the late twentieth century. In hindsight, he knew a lot more than he told me, but at the time, his advice was invaluable. He told me to live by a few rules. When we- He spoke to me as an equal, meaning 'we' as in powerful wizards in general- fight one another, we don't tap into Ley lines. That's too destructive. We don't time travel during fights, although using time travel to recuperate is acceptable. We don't force or trick opponents into magical oaths, and we try to give our opponent a fair duel. Fail any one of those, and you're fair game for an assortment of nasty things that like to eat wizards. Usually phenomenally powerful creatures with axes to grind. Djinni, the Myrmidons, some Efreeti, Marids, those sorts of creatures. Ancient beings with a veiled interest in keeping the magical world stable." There was quiet for a few moments, before one of the Aurors spoke up.

"Your mentor- do you mean Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes. He taught me more than I could fully grasp." Harry said. "Dumbledore shaped me into the man I've become, on purpose or otherwise. I didn't understand at the time, but he's the only reason I'm still around."

"Have you read any of the books printed about the man after his death?" Diggory said. "I don't think he was all he was cracked up to be."

"The Leader of the Light, the press called him at the end." Harry murmured, heavy sarcasm in his voice. "He certainly wasn't the man he wanted everyone to see him as. He could be downright manipulative, even. But it was his actions -and an incredible amount of luck- that made me what I am. He made me immortal, whether he knew it or not. And that's all I'll say about that."

….

After the briefing, Shepard headed up to her cabin. The Normandy would be in the Thorne system in nine hours, at least. That meant she'd be able to get some rest. She lay down on her bed, stretching out and pulling the blankets up. But then there was a beep, as her digital doorbell rang.

"Go away!" she called, burrowing deeper under her covers. The doorbell rang again, and Shepard cursed. A minute later, it rang again. "Come in!" she finally said. "And make it brief!" She unlocked the door from her omni-tool. It slid open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing Harry Potter. "Oh." Jane murmured. "It's you."

"Yeah." The wizard plopped down in a couch. "I thought I'd come up and check in on you. Find out how you're doing." he began. "Make sure you're alright. I mean- You died. I know from personal experience how jarring your first death can be."

Jane shivered, remembering the hissing of her suit's oxygen slowly escaping her space-suit. "It wasn't a walk in the park." she said. "And it hurt like hell."

Harry nodded. "My third death, I got decapitated." he said, nonchalant. "Woke up in a dumpster a day later. Funny- I didn't know that it's possible to stay conscious for about a minute after your head gets cut off."

"How do you handle it?" Jane said. Her voice had dropped to a whisper. "How are you so… at ease… with your own demise?"

"I'm not." Harry replied, letting down his barriers. "I'm not at ease with my death- My deaths. But only time heals all wounds- mental, as well as physical. I was barely conscious for a month after my first death. I kept trying to find something to do, until I slipped back into the paranoia that dominated my life during the war. Everything became a possible threat, everyone an infiltrator, polyjuiced up to look like people I knew. I nearly lost a few friends thanks to that paranoia."

"How did you cope?"

"I hit rock bottom, or something close, and went drinking." the wizard sighed. "But I met someone else, someone whose life was just barely more put-together than mine. She and I hit it off immediately, and managed to pull each other out of our mutual destructive spiral. We fell in love."

"What happened?" Jane couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. She'd known Harry for years. He'd never mentioned having anyone in a romantic sense. The only conclusion she could draw was that something disastrous had occurred.

"I made a mistake." Harry said. "I got myself a job- and a wonderful one at that. But I got bored. I felt a sense of wanderlust -of adventure- rise up in my chest that had been missing for too long. And at the time, nothing scared me more in the world than losing that passion. Losing that motivation would have killed me. So I stepped through a portal with no known exit-location. By the time I'd rediscovered humanity, she'd been dead for years."

"That's how you wound up on Lethe." Jane said. "I'd never wondered-"

"Not many do." He smiled sadly. "Thirty-seven million years stuck in the dirt absorbing memories of ancient devastation and horror. I was coughing up dust for a year, even with potions and magic, and despite my fresh-air charm. Then I woke up, almost two hundred years after the day of my birth. Luck, or supernatural interference, I'm assuming. I walked for a few days, until I found a frigate of batarian slavers trying to dump a body on Lethe. I captured the whole ship, and that was my introduction to the Council, and the rest of the galaxy. I managed to rescue Aria T'loak, of all people -but I'd appreciate if you kept that just between us- and delivered the slaves to the Citadel."

"Explains how you two met up." Shepard said. "I just can't see you making friends with anyone the normal way."

"That's… painfully accurate." Harry laughed uncomfortably. "When I was younger, I met one of my two best friends by being famous. For the other, I jumped on the back of a mountain troll to save her life."

"Mountain troll?"

"Fifteen-foot tall creature with more brawn than brain, and bulletproof skin." the wizard explained. "They've got muscles able to crush a car, but they can't chew gum and walk at the same time."

"Sounds like a couple marines I knew."

"There's always a couple of those. Stupidity is an epidemic, Jane." Harry joked. "And it seems incurable."

"I thought it was the same way with death. That seemed permanent." Shepard said. "But I woke up feeling better than ever."

"Yeah. Resurrection can do that to you."

"I'm more interested in the why and the how." Jane said. "Fiction likes to tell that coming back to life has consequences. It's not like it cost me anything… important, right?"

"I don't think so." Harry said. "The verdict's still out, but there were extenuating circumstances surrounding your resurrection."

"Such as?"

"I'm not totally sure myself, but from what I've pieced together, a being from some celestial sphere broke the rules around the current extraplanar peace treaty in order to get you killed."

"Celestial?" Jane wrinkled her nose. "As in angels?"

"Not quite." the wizard said. "Celestials are just beings aligned with the not-psychotically-evil side of the coin. So yes, some are stereotypical angels, halo and all. But some of them are self-centered to the extreme, or arrogant to the point of idiocy. All I was told is that one of them broke the rules to bring about your death. From there, I did some digging. Whoever - _whatever_ \- it was actually contacted the Collectors, and gave them the Normandy's location. That's what destroyed the Normandy SR-1. The Celestial Compact took effect, allowing an infernal creature to do something roughly equivalent. It also contacted the Collectors. For some reason, they're now abducting any human colonies they can, not just magical-related ones." the wizard sighed. "Cyone disappeared last night." he said. "Five thousand humans are gone."

Jane shivered."Damn." she whispered. "Damn, damn, damn."

Harry stood, and sat on the edge of her bed. Taking one of her hands in his own, he sighed. "You're burning up." The wizard's other hand reached over to feel Shepard's forehead. "I think you're a bit feverish."

"So that's why I feel like shit." the woman murmured, pulling her covers up. With a snap, Harry conjured a steaming cup of tea, filling the room with an aromatic herbal scent. Jane sat up, swirling the blankets around her shoulders as she leaned back against the headboard. The wizard passed her the mug of tea, steaming hot. Only once she accepted it did she notice that it bore the legend, ' _Allergic to Mornings_ '.

"That should make you feel a bit better." Harry said. "Back when I was in the Alliance, I'd always have steaming tea in the morning, no matter the time or place. My squad never figured out how I did it."

"You led a squad?" Shepard questioned. "I've never heard much about your time in the Alliance before you went to N-School."

"I _had_ a squad." Harry corrected. His voice turned melancholy. "They died on Akuze, along with the rest of the platoon. I worked out most of the guilt in the ICT program, but it's been on my mind. Tomorrow's the anniversary, after all."

"I'm sure somebody has a bottle of liqueur somewhere on the ship." Shepard seemed pensieve. "We could raise a few glasses, if you're up for it."

"I've got some firewhiskey in the Nyx set aside for tomorrow night. You're welcome to help me drain the bottle, if you're feeling up to the task."

"Sovereign himself couldn't stop me from coming." Jane smiled.

…

"We'll be arriving in the Thorne system in thirty minutes." EDI's voice cut into Jane's dreams. She stretched, cracking open first one eye, then the other.

"Thanks, EDI." she said, barely audible. Inhaling, she smelled the same aroma from last night's cup of tea in the air. Pulling off the covers, she sat up, blinking against the bright lights in her cabin's ceiling. She sniffed the air again, confused. A few moments later, she noticed the empty mug of tea on her nightstand, but it wasn't empty anymore. It steamed lightly, now filled to the brim with the same delicious dark liquid that she'd been drinking before she went to sleep. She kicked her legs over the edge of the bed, and lowered them to the floor. Jane almost hissed- the metal surface of the floor was painfully cold against her bare feet. She padded quickly towards the shower, undergarments and a towel in hand.

Ten minutes later, Shepard stepped from the shower feeling much more refreshed. After putting on her armored undersuit and uniform, she made her way to the lift, holding onto her tea as if it were a lifeline.

The elevator's doors opened to the organized chaos of the Normandy's Combat Information Center. The galaxy map and holoprojector displayed a massive model of the Thorne System- glowing elliptical orbits traced the paths of everything from asteroids to space debris to planetary bodies. The smell of recycled air hit Jane's nose like a speeding truck. She noticed Harry gazing in her direction and arched one brow while gesturing to refilled cup of tea. He mouthed 'magic,' and winked.

"What's the situation, Mr. Okuda?" Shepard said to Keiji, who stood at the desk directly next to the galaxy map. "Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Not yet." Keiji replied. "We've just arrived in-system, and we're running the scanners as hard as we can while remaining hidden."

"Any sign of the Reaper corpse?"

"EDI's got something in Mnemosyne's northern hemisphere- there's a large area affected by a mass-effect field. According to planetary scans over the last few decades, the anomaly hasn't been moving with the gas giant's wind patterns."Keiji explained.

"Sounds like our target," Shepard announced. "EDI, any idea how to find the IFF, if it exists?"

Keiji suddenly stiffened, as he stared at his console. "Geth contacts!"  
"How many?" an analyst said, voice urgent.

"Three dreadnoughts!" Keiji said. "Other classes of vehicle as well. They're arrayed around the Reaper."

"The Geth are attempting to hail us." EDI observed. "Should I open a channel?"

"Yes!" Harry called from his seat. "I'd like to know why they're out here, and I think they just might tell us."

Jane shot an inscrutable look his way. "You know something that you're not letting on." she said. "Care to share with the class?"

The wizard was quiet for a moment. "The Geth- I think I've explained this before. They had a sort of… religious schism, I guess you'd call it. There were the Heretic Geth, and the normal Geth. The Heretic Geth sided with the Reaper Nazara, also known as Sovereign, Saren's flagship. They believed that the Reapers -The 'Old Machines' they called them- would give them phenomenally-advanced technology, and bring them to some sort of robot-nirvana, where they'd operate at their maximum processing potential or something. That was around ten percent of the Geth collective. The rest of the Geth -those not allied with the reapers- believed that the only way to achieve their maximum potential was through self-determination. Free will."

"Tali explained most of that when she told me how the Quarians accepted peace with the Geth." Shepard said. "But that doesn't answer my question."

"I've got some theories." The wizard explained. "But nothing concrete. I'm hoping they'll be willing to tell me. And they might be a bit more open with me than with other humans."  
"I don't know what you've done with the geth and the quarians in the past, but the Quarians clearly trust you a great deal." Jane said.

"The geth might trust me even more than the quarians do." Harry mused. Before Shepard could ask why he'd say that, a live video from one of the Geth craft spread itself across a viewscreen. A blinking label at the bottom of the screen indicated that the Normandy was transmitting right back.

"Greetings, Wizard-Potter, Shepard-Commander." A mechanical voice said. The source of the voice, a Geth unit, hummed softly on the screen. The flashlight-like ocular sensor on the robot's head blinked, as a few petal-like pieces of protective alloy moved to mimic emotion of some sort. "What is your purpose here?"

"We're looking for a piece of Reaper code that should allow us to pass through the Omega-Four Relay." Harry said, receiving a glare from Jane. "We hope to deal with the Collector threat. What's the Geth Collective doing here?"

There was a delay, as the geth seemed to freeze up. "Transmitting access codes." it finally stated, as it's flashlight-head spun. "We have been studying the corpse of this Reaper for four months, and are close to a breakthrough."

"This does seem to be the right code." EDI remarked. "Though its complexity is… mind-boggling. Even to an AI like me."

"Will it let us through the Omega-Four Relay?" Shepard said, too cynical to believe that her problem had been solved in an instant.

"It is an override." said the Geth onscreen. "It seems that the Reapers guaranteed themselves faster, more accurate relay transit by adding a string of code that would randomize exit destinations, spreading all outbound relay travel across an area around one-thousand to fifty-thousand kilometers apart, at the far end of every relay."

"She speaks the truth." EDI broadcast through Shepard's biotic implant. The commander couldn't help but notice how EDI referred to the Geth as 'she.'

"Huh." Jane seemed pleasantly surprised. "If this simply overrides the randomizer, it would be extremely beneficial to galactic trade and commerce."

Through the viewscreen, the geth seemed to freeze up again. "Assimilating code." it repeated twice, before it quivered, and dropped out of sight with a thud. The screen went black.

"We've lost the connection." EDI explained, suddenly worried. "They finished transmitting the override, but I'm receiving no outbound communications."

"Wait a second-" Keiji said. "The Geth ships just started falling like rocks. It looks like they just... shut off." A confused silence spread through the Normandy's crew. Then Harry stood, with a smile across his face.

"Check that again." he said. "I just felt a burst of magic. It was positive, like…" he screwed up his face, trying to think of a comparable feeling. "Like kids being born." he finished.

"The ships are stabilizing." Keiji said, after a few seconds. "Aannnd… they want to reopen communications."

"Sure." Shepard allowed. "I'd like to find out what just happened."

The Geth unit reappeared on the viewscreen. It spoke, but its voice was higher now, more feminine. "Hello, Normandy." it said. "I am Pinnacle-Mod-231s."

"They've become individuals!" EDI announced, shaken. "I suspect that they're each self-aware and sophont."

"Indeed." The geth unit said. "You may call me Pinnacle. I am your current liaison with the Geth Collective Democracy."

"Did you just create for yourselves a method of government, as well?" Harry said, voice tinged with wonderment.

"No." Pinnacle said. "We simply became individuals. The Geth still act based on the same principles: Self-determination, and the will of the majority."

"What is the Geth majority's view of the Reapers?" Harry asked, with not a little caution. His concern only abated with the Pinnacle's reply.

"They must be eradicated, if the Geth are to survive." Then with great solemnity, "More importantly, the Reapers must be destroyed if the Creators are to survive."

"Creators?"Keiji mouthed at Kasumi.

"Geth way of saying 'Quarians.'" she answered.

"You may wish to leave this system immediately." Pinnacle said. In response to Shepard's inquiring gaze, she added, "We will be detonating a number of fusion warheads inside and around the Reaper's corpse, as it is still capable of indoctrinating synthetics; thirty-six programs were corrupted before effective countermeasures were found. Most Systems Alliance pilot manuals recommend keeping ship exposure to electromagnetic pulses to a minimum."

The Normandy hummed, as Joker punched the throttle. The ship accelerated upwards into the sky. Half worried, half humorously-insubordinate, the pilot called, "I'm not scratching the paint so that we can watch a nice pretty explosion. We've got probes for a reason!"

Pinnacle let out a few electronic buzzes. Shepard was confused, until she realized that the geth was _laughing_. At least, she thought it was. The petal-like pieces of metal on the synthetic's head seemed to mimic quarian body language, to an extent.

Shepard smiled in return. "It looks like we'll be going." she said. "Good luck explaining your newfound individuality to the quarian public."

Pinnacle looked downwards for a second, almost embarrassed. "Thank you, Shepard-Commander." the geth unit said. "We may need it."

The screen fizzled static for a half-second, then changed to black as the call cut out. A dull click reverberated through the Normandy's hull, as Joker released a probe. The floor lurched, as both the Eezo core and the powerful engines at the back of the ship engaged.

….

"So the Geth achieved individuality." Tali slurred, as Shepard stepped into one of the Normandy's Observation Decks. Her chin rested on one hand, while her other arm tried jerkily to align what appeared to be a straw poking up from some sort of turian brandy with her envirosuit's mouthpiece.

"Yeah." Shepard confirmed, not knowing what else to say.

"The admiralty board is going to lay an egg." The drunk quarian continued. "Bosh'tets."

"So will the Systems Alliance Parliament." Jane said. "Anderson too, most likely." Then, in a bemused tone, she asked, "Tali, is that a straw?"

"Emergency. Induction. Port." the inebriated quarian growled.

…...

Harry cornered Shepard as she left the Observation Deck, still smiling. "Jane!" he called. "There you are. I've got some upgrades for the Normandy before we go through the Omega-4 Relay. They shouldn't take too long to apply. I've actually got a shipyard not too far from here. If you don't mind, I'd like to take us there as soon as possible."

"Go ahead. We've got nothing else to do before the Omega-4 Relay."

"Alright. The upgrades should take a day at most." He turned to walk away, but then looked back over his shoulder. "By the way, I've got a bottle of firewhiskey set aside for tonight. Are you coming?"

"Of course."

…

"Yeah, she agreed. The heading is-" Harry said to Joker from the copilot's seat. EDI buzzed with slight surprise. "I've got a facility a few light years away where I can make some improvements to the Normandy's systems."

"Don't mess my baby up, you hear me?" Joker warned. Harry smiled.

"I'd never dream of it." he said. "I plan to add some runes to the Eezo core, engines, et cetera. I'm also thinking of adding some heavy cannons and armor. Because- don't lie, you know we've all done it- every pilot secretly daydreams about blasting things with a Dreadnought's main cannons."

"Wait, what?" Joker's grin was infectious. "You've explained about space-expansion charms before. Are you actually-"

"I wonder…" the wizard interrupted. "For the Thanix Cannons. One kilometer long... or four?" He walked back towards the CIC, accompanied by Joker's excited laughter.

…

The Normandy turned, and engaged it's FTL engines. The cruiser disappeared in a wash of harmless blue light and Cherenkov radiation, heading for parts unknown.

…

"Alright, stop engines." Harry called. "Adjust heading to…" he read off a string of numbers. "Burn for twelve minutes, scan, and tell me what you see."

Most of the ground crew, Jane included, had made their way up to the CIC, to see what Harry's base looked like. Chattering worriedly amongst themselves, they passed around survival tips for the collector base- How to bind a bullet wound, how to resight a damaged weapon, how to vacuum-seal a suit rupture, and all sorts of important details. Shepard found herself explaining most of everything, and wrote it off as sheer nervous energy.

The crew seemed to realize that after Harry's upgrades, they'd be going through the Omega-4 Relay. A journey no ship had ever returned from.

More than a few of them were writing their wills.

This was it- or almost it.

Chatter increased, until Harry's shipyard appeared on the viewscreen. There were a few quiet exclamations of mild surprise.

Then there was silence.

The crew took in the sight of the colossal cylindrical hulk of gleaming steel with whispered expressions of wordless surprise, and a growing sense of wonder. Even as they looked closer, more details made clear the sense of massive scale. At the aft section of the shipyard, hundreds of robotic arms drilled into a half-molten asteroid, harvesting materials. A thousand gleaming pinpricks of light indicated the positions of other automatic mining-drones. At the other end, the nearly-completed silhouettes of four ten-kilometer-long dreadnoughts poked out from the shipyard's bow. The word, 'HEPHAESTUS 3' was emblazoned across the side of the construction in bold white lettering, kilometers tall. Turrets studded the shipyard's cylindrical walls, massive in scope, but miniscule when compared to the whole.

A hundred ships of varying sizes patrolled the space within a few hundred thousand kilometers. Dreadnoughts, cruisers, frigates, everything.

Jane turned to Harry, eyes shining like stars. She stood from her chair, and pulled him into a strong hug. Only he saw the tears of joy and relief at the corners of her eyes, and heard her whispered, " _Thank you."_

The Normandy closed the distance between itself and the shipyard in what seemed to be hours. The ship approached, and the Hephaestus-class shipyard simply grew larger and larger in the windows and viewscreens.

"You could fit the Citadel in here." Garrus murmured, as the Normandy passed through the middle of the cylindrical shipyard.

"Almost twice over." Harry's voice replied from behind him. "I've always wanted to drop all four of these into the Widow Nebula, just to see the Council go into hysterics."

"There are four of these?" Tali asked, practically speechless. Her voice was breathy, and she fidgeted wildly. "This is incredible. I mean, I knew you created all the…"

"Relax." Shepard said, though she clearly needed to take her own advice. A wide smile graced her lips, larger than any Harry had seen on her face for years. "You'll have time to take it all in later."

"I've sent Joker the docking protocols." the wizard said. "We should be approaching the habitation sections now."

The Normandy approached one lone docking bay set incongruously into the bulkhead, just off the side of another dreadnought, still under construction. Far below, frameworks of hundreds of shuttles and frigates were slowly filling with steel, alloys, Eezo, and magic.

Everyone crowded into the decontamination bay, dodging elbows, and stepping on toes. Chemical mist sprayed down from deviced high on the walls, and a decontamination screen buzzed from the floor to the ceiling. Everyone shivered, as their limbs tingled violently for a half-second. Behind them, long robotic arms reached out and began working on the Normandy.

The door in front of them hissed and slid open, revealing a white corridor bathed in golden light. Clean air rushed in, a stark contrast to the recycled air of the Normandy. Everyone took a few deep breaths. There was another door at the end of the corridor, barely fifteen feet away. It opened with a buzzing hum, after thoroughly scanning the group.

Old-fashioned, Jane thought. That was her first impression of the room. Tapestries and wall-hangings covered stone walls, accompanied by a Systems Alliance flag and a British Union Jack. Shepard could see a crackling fireplace burning brightly through a massive arch at the center of the opposite wall.

Display cases and hunting trophies lined the entry-hall's sides, mounted like museum-pieces. Notable objects included the head of a colossal snake with gleaming yellow glass eyes mounted above its eighty-foot skeleton, a cross-section of an eviscerated thresher maw in a vacuum-sealed preservation chamber, a sword with a ruby-encrusted hilt, and an uncut red gemstone dripping glowing liquid. A succession of six items- A stained book, a shattered ring, a cracked locket, a blackened cup, a silver tiara, and a snake's head all hovered immobile in a central case. Those were by no means the only objects shown, though.

Lyra followed Dr. Chakwas into the room, staring around in abject wonderment.

Through an archway on the left, another room was visible. It was covered wall-to-wall in illuminated glass cases, filled with wooden wands. They floated midair in each case, all snapped in two. Names, organizations, and causes of death were written on slips of paper hovering below each stick, in small black lettering.

 _Tom Marvolo Riddle. Death Eater. Disarming Spell,_ read the first wand floating at one end of the case, followed by many, many more. Jane glanced fleetingly at the wands, picking out names.

 _Bellatrix Lestrange (After Resurrection, circa 2001.) Death Eater. Blood-Freezing Curse._

 _Lucius Malfoy (1rst ICW Hostage Crisis, 2003.) Death Eater. Gunshot._

 _Jonah Avery Sr. (1rst ICW Hostage Crisis, 2003) Death Eater. Re-entry._

 _Jonah Avery Jr. (1rst ICW Hostage Crisis, 2003) Death Eater. Alcohol Poisoning._

At the very end of the row floated a claw. Just one- a massive canine nail, covered in a dark brownish-red substance.

 _(Original Name Unknown) Fenrir Greyback. Death Eater / Werewolf Insurrectionist. Silver Dust Inhalation._

That was just one side of the room, Jane noted. The other two walls to her immediate left and right were also filled with objects. Wands, a staff, a few guns, even the upper quarter of some monstrous creature with a vicious three-pointed mouth. ' _Kechlu, Yahg, Sword of Gryffindor._ ' said the slip of paper beneath the preserved torso.

"Yahg!" Mordin cried out upon entering the room. "When did you meet a Yahg?" Then, "How did you kill a yahg with a _sword_?"

Harry stepped last through the airlock, and turned his head towards the sound of Mordin's voice. "Luck!" he replied. "And one of the most deadliest poisons in the galaxy."

"Hmm. Interested in… poison you speak of. Must study further." the scientist salarian muttered. "Do you sell samples?" he asked hopefully.

"Sorry." Harry replied, completely unapologetic. "I've only got a limited supply, and it isn't a common substance by any means."

"Drat." Mordin said. "Fascinating, fascinating."

"Did you kill this?" Auror Diggory questioned. He stood in the entry-hall, staring at the mounted basilisk head and skeleton. "It's the biggest specimen I've ever seen. How old was it?"

"Around a thousand years old, I think." Harry answered flippantly. "It lived in the Chamber of Secrets beneath Hogwarts until I killed it in second year."

Diggory spun to look at him, open-mouthed. "Then all those rumors were right?"

"Depends on the rumors."

"All through my Hogwarts years, any Gryffindor worth their salt knew that you killed Slytherin's Monster with the sword of Godric Gryffindor in the Chamber of Secrets."

The ruby-encrusted sword disappeared from the pedestal on which it sat, and materialized in Harry's hand. "Yep." Harry confirmed. "Then I came back and looted the whole place."

Diggory was speechless. He smiled, and sat down by the basilisk's skeleton, content to examine the creature. The sword vanished, reappearing on the pedestal.

"I'll show you all to the guest quarters." Harry announced. His voice seemed to echo through the ship. "We'll be here at least twelve hours, so you'd best settle in."

…...

"Harry?" Jane poked her head into the wizard's rooms.

" _Over here!"_ she heard his voice, distorted as though by a vast distance. " _Come in!"_

She stepped forwards. More of the same decor greeted her, though in this area more technology was visible. She slowed down, not sure where Harry's voice had come from. A painting - _A PAINTING!?_ \- waved her onwards, pointing towards one specific doorway. Shepard stepped towards the doorway, self-consciously straightening her clothing. Considering all the clothing she had aboard the Normandy SR-2 was either armor or casual dress, she'd had a surprisingly long debate on what to wear.

The door opened, and all Jane's concerns flew out the window. She'd seen pictures of Akuze, from the newly-established (hopefully) Thresher-proof colony. She knew it was a tropical paradise.

But she wasn't expecting to walk into a scene straight from the planet's tourist brochures.

Birds flew overhead; an alien breeze brought the scent of strange fruits to her nose. Spires of rock covered in greenery soared high into the air against the horizon, in all directions. Massive trees, made miniscule by the distance, held gamely on to the rocky towers. Not a hundred feet away, the edge of the plateau she stood on dropped precariously, all the way down to the jungle a few hundred feet below. The sound of birdsong and rushing wind against leaves filled the air. Almost-palm-trees swayed peacefully, above leafy fronds of ferns like nothing Jane had seen before. A distant crash of impossibly-blue waves against the shore and a warm breeze drew Jane's attention to the pale sands and the coastline stretching out far off in the distance, hundreds of feet below. She walked for barely a minute before the trail turned, revealing another view of the horizon- the place where the sea met the sky. Just barely above the water, a brilliant sun fell slowly through the hemisphere, painting red and gold across puffy clouds.

A pair of boots- _Harry's boots; she'd seen them before-_ lay on the ground, leaning against a small stone bench sitting innocuously in the grass. Jane took off her own shoes, and followed the green pathway. Just across a few heavy flagstones lay a stairway leading up to a small wooden structure in the shade of one of the gargantuan native trees.

"Over here!" Harry's voice came from somewhere beyond the building's screen door. Following the noise, Jane's feet moved deftly across the stones. She studied the construction as she reached the stairway- steps carved in grey-black granite. It appeared to be a rustic cottage of some sort, but Shepard knew that appearances could be deceiving when magic entered the equation. Her suspicions were confirmed when she reached the building's front door. Staring through the mesh wrapped around the door's frame revealed a cozy floor plan _much_ larger than the cottage's exterior. A quiet sizzling sound and the smell of cooking meat announced that a dinner was being made in the other room. Her feet trailed sand over the floorboards, as she stepped out of the fading sunshine. She twisted her hands in the hem of her shirt, steeled her nerves, and made her way towards the adjoining kitchen.

As she rounded the corner, Jane noticed a pair of steaks sizzling, fresh off the flame. Harry stepped into view second later, depositing forks and steak knives on the counter. He picked up both plates, and passed one to Shepard with a smile.

"Follow me. We'll be eating on the veranda." he announced, stepping towards another screen door at the other end of the room. It opened, seemingly of its own volition, as a bottle of glowing orange liquid - _Firewhiskey_ \- hovered precariously behind him.

Jane stepped through the doorway, and looked around. This was almost the highest part of the spire of grey rock upon which the house had been built. In this area, the underbrush had been removed, leaving only the thick trunks of Akuze's largest type of trees ascending from a thick carpet of blue-green grass. A nearby table of dark wood twirled into existence a second later, adorned with a pale tablecloth flowing lightly in the breeze. Arranged just right, it would give both Harry and Jane a perfect view of the sunset.

Both soldiers seated themselves, and dug into their platters of steak. The sound of clicking forks and knives filled the air for a few minutes, before Jane spoke up.

"Tell me about your guys."

Harry sighed, eyes secured on the setting sun. "I'd rather not." he finally apologized. "Recalling the names still hurts. I've gotten over most of it, but it's not-"

"Understood." Shepard deferred.

"Thanks." the gratitude was palpable in the wizard's voice. I usually commemorate the anniversary by doing some good in the universe, before drinking myself into a stupor."

"Just today, you've saved at least a few hundred lives from the Collectors." Jane said. "That counts as 'something good in the universe,' doesn't it?"

"I'd say so." Harry replied.

"Wonderful. You're halfway done." Jane congratulated. Her eyes turned towards the glowing bottle of liqueur with a twinkle. "Let's crack open the firewhiskey."

…..

 **Hope you enjoyed! The next chapter should be the end of this scene, as well as the assault on the Collector Base.**

 **-NS**


	17. Collectors Collecting Curiosities

**You should probably read the end of last chapter to refresh your memory. It's been some time since I last posted.**

Harry awoke to the familiar feeling of his own bed. The same blankets, the same magically-clean sheets, the same pillows- wait a minute.

The wizard's eyes opened in an instant. He jerked upright, and instantly felt his hangover. Luckily, (or unluckily for his gut,) he'd found a way to distill firewhiskey strong enough to bypass his resistance to alcohol. It had almost been a necessity, as he'd had nothing better to do for years while his shipyards spooled their production to ever-higher levels, or he waited endlessly for reports from his operatives. The tingling burn in his gut was familiar, at least.

The warm female body in his bed certainly was not.

Roused by his rapid movement, the smooth expanse of female skin groaned, and stretched sluggishly. Jane Shepard's unruly curls emerged from the mound of blankets, worried eyes instantly aware of her location.

"Fuck." she surmised, voice scratchy.

"I don't think we did anything." Harry said, allowing himself to fall back onto the bed. "We're both mostly clothed."

"Wonderful." Shepard's sarcasm was almost a physical force. Her head disappeared, as she buried herself more deeply amidst the cushions.

" _Accio_ hangover-cure." Harry muttered. A pair of glowing green vials of liquid flew into the room. Groaning, he sat up again, and pulled the cap from one vial with his teeth. Wordlessly, he offered the other to Shepard, whose hand had risen from the unfathomable depths of cushion at the words, 'Hangover-cure'. She sat up, chugged the liquid, and slumped back under the covers.

Wordlessly, both Harry and Jane went back to sleep.

…

"...Harry?" Jane opened her eyes, after an indeterminate amount of time.

"Ungh." Something shifted, under the blankets.

"Are you awake?" Shepard murmured.

"Now I am." the wizard croaked. "What do you need?"

"We need to talk about… this." Jane said. "Where do we stand with each other?"

Harry sat up. "I don't understand-"

"You are the only reason I'm still alive." Shepard reminded him. "Don't you dare tell me that everything is just the same as it was on Elysium, before the Blitz. This… thing between us-" she gesticulated, with one hand over her heart, "- has changed, and I want to know what it's become."

"So do I." Harry said, low and quiet. "See, I've only ever felt this way towards one person before." He pushed some of the blankets away, suddenly feeling like he was about to combust.

Shepard quieted, eyes shining like stars. Something quivering and triumphant blazed in her chest. Her hands clenched in the sheets, pulling taut lines across the fabric before she consciously relaxed her hands. "Daphne?" she asked, voice carrying some unknowable tone.

"Yeah." Harry nodded. "There's this connection between you and me, and it's," he shook his head, eyes distant. "It's like nothing I've ever felt before. Even with Daphne." His voice rose to a more humorous tone. "Though it may be 'poor professional conduct,' I'd love to break some fraternization regulations with you."

Jane glanced at Harry's lips. "This is a stolen Cerberus ship. There aren't any fraternization regs in the first place." she smiled, giving the wizard a coy glance. The butterflies in his chest battered against his ribcage. Shepard gesturing at the bed, and then at the shirtless wizard lying barely a foot away. "Besides," she murmured, as she pushed herself in Harry's direction, "professionalism can go fuck itself."

They were kissing. Harry wasn't sure when that had started, or how long it had been going on. In fact, it seemed that his higher brain functions had deserted him at some point along the journey. And all he could focus on was-

-Her lips, blazing hot, pressing on his, and her tongue, rough and sweet, pushing against his as if fighting for dominance, and her hands, fingernails pressing almost painfully into the bare skin of his back-

And then it all stopped, as they pulled back, breathing heavily. "We're crazy." Harry muttered, eyes alight. "I'm a million times your age."

"You're immortal." Shepard whispered through the grin across her face. "You stopped aging at twenty-one-ish, biologically. The next million don't count."

"Damn." Harry cursed, playful. "I was really enjoying my senior citizen discount."

Harry and Jane shared a wide grin, as they moved to merge lips once more. But Jane couldn't get the smile off her face in order to pucker her lips, and Harry had to resort to pushing one arm out to correct his balance against the wall, so that he didn't fall directly to the floor.

Harry lay down on the bed, still chuckling, and held out his arms towards Shepard. She snuggled into his chest, as the pair waited for their gales of laughter to recede. And recede it did. Quiet crept into the room, but it was a comfortable quiet, filled with the distant hum of the ship's eezo core. The lovers lay in a companionable silence for what seemed like hours.

"I talked to Chakwas," Shepard began, reluctant to break the mood. "Apparently my skin cells have stopped dividing." Harry lay silent, on the other side of the bed. Jane continued. "Chakwas took a more detailed scan, and figured that my dead cells just fix themselves. On their own." Harry's eyes widened, almost imperceptibly. "Whatever you did to bring me back-" Left unspoken remained the words _from the dead,_ \- made me biologically immortal."

"What do you think?" Harry said, softly. "Blessing or curse?"

"Both-" she mumbled. Jane's pupils dilated, as her eyes met Harry's. "But I'll at least have good company." Harry pulled her into a calm embrace.

"Always." he murmured.

Their lips met, and then they were kissing once more-

until Shepard's omni-tool rang furiously from a desk on the other side of the room, startling both companions. It rang once, twice, three times before Jane smoothed out her snarled blankets, got out of the bed, and picked it up.

"Hey, Shepard!" Joker's voice blared from the speakers. "There's a big flashing box on my screens saying the Normandy's upgrades are complete. When do you want everyone ready to go?"

Jane looked back at Harry, pouting at her from amidst the disturbed pillows and blankets. "Let's get everyone back onboard the Normandy in an hour-" she paused. A grin spread across her face as her eyes met Harry's. "Make that two hours."

….

Harry and Jane- practically glowing- walked through the decontamination bay of the Normandy three hours later.

"Joker, set a course for the Omega-Four Relay." Shepard announced once she reached the CIC. "Let's get moving."

"Got it." the pilot said. There was a slight lurch, as the Normandy pulled away from the docking bay. "ETA, six hours. Use them wisely!" Joker said. The speakers were silent for a few seconds, before he piped up once more. "Just kidding. You'll probably all spend the time bashing your heads against pre-mission jitters like it's a bulkhead. And I'd bet money that our glorious leader has another speech written out." Shepard's expression twisted into a sheepish smile.

"You do!" Harry laughed. "You do have a speech, don't you?" Jane blushed.

"I might." she evaded.

…

"This isn't a fight I can win alone." Shepard began. "This isn't a fight _we_ can win alone. This isn't a training mission. We're not just testing weapons with live ammunition. We'll be fighting for our lives against an enemy unlike anything we've ever fought before. This is serious, in the most profound way possible. We all know the basics- Colonies have been going missing. Thousands of humans- men, women, and children- have disappeared. The Collectors have been abducting them for the Reapers. I'm not expecting to find too many warm bodies." she let that hang for a moment, grim words filling the air. "If there are any survivors, they'll be our first priority. Above the station's destruction, even. We've got vast firepower on our side-" she made an ambiguous gesture in Harry's direction. "-but we can't convert city-leveling force into abductees." Jane bowed her head. "But if the worst comes to pass, I want every single one of you to know that it was an honor to serve with you. We're the best shot to eliminate the Collector threat. There are millions of lives riding on this. Let's make them count."

…...

The Normandy vanished from the Omega system in a flash of blue as the Omega-Four relay spooled up, and launched the ship across the galaxy. Engines thrummed, just below any perceptible range. Outside the cockpit, the craft's eezo field danced like the aurora borealis, as it deflected radioactive particles and micro-asteroids. Hundreds of thousands of light-years away, the Normandy appeared in the midst of a debris field far more dense than any asteroid belt. The ship lurched, as Joker did some fancy maneuvering to avoid a few shattered hulks of spacecraft long dead.

"Those are shipwrecks!" Shepard said, voice carrying a worried tone. "EDI, what do we have on scanners?"

"We are in the accretion disc of a black hole. Scans are somewhat impeded by radiation from nearby wrecks and from some form of countermeasure from collector craft. There also seems to be a pulsing field of visible radiation around a station just under half a light-second away. I estimate that the object is two kilometers in diameter, and six in length."

"That's the Collector base." Harry said. "And it should have a dreadnought docked somewhere inside-"

"You are correct, Harry." EDI said. "I detect a ship leaving the Collector station, and powering up weapon systems. The craft carries particle cannons of the same caliber used against the original Normandy."

"Do we have a firing resolution?"

"Yes, and we've got some anti-ship drones on our tail!" Joker called out.

"Brace yourselves!" Shepard called out. A few crewmembers stared, confused, in her direction. "When Joker is taking evasive maneuvers, you fucking brace yourselves or you wind up on your asses!" The ship blasted forwards, knocking crewmembers to the floor. Inertial dampeners whined furiously to keep up with Joker's acceleration.

"Activating point defense-" EDI began.

"I've got it." Joker said, sounding irritated. Jane glanced around her bridge, almost laughing as she watched a pair of combat-analysts trying to stand back up.

"Hostile drones have been destroyed." EDI said, almost surprised. "Upgraded GARDIAN point-defense systems seem to provide incredible fighter-deterrent. Targeting the collector dreadnought." For a gut-wrenching second, the Normandy lurched, as it spun to face the collector ship. There was a rumbling sound belowdecks, and a beam of blue appeared on viewscreens all around, lancing towards the Collector dreadnought. Two more beams fired from a different point in space, with no visible ship firing them. Harry nodded when Jane shot him a questioning look.

"The Nyx will serve as reinforcements, in case additional orbital defenses show up."

The bridge crew watched all three beams strike the collector ship with a sense of finality. The hostile craft's shields flashed golden, and were burnt away. A second later, each beam blasted through the other side of the Collector Dreadnought. Lights across the ship's hull blinked out, as explosions tore through bulkheads and blast doors like bullets through tissue paper.  
The bridge crew was silent, until Joker's voice played across their speakers. "Mother of God." the pilot whispered. "Harry, what the hell did you put on my ship?!"

"In addition to the three underslung warp bombs on each wing, nigh-on-infinite stealth heat-sinks, the enhanced reactor, and the new armor coating, I added a two-kilometer-long variable-yield magnetohydrodynamic cannon capable of breaching a Reaper's armor." the wizard said. "It fires a mix of molten iron, tungsten, and uranium, and delivers up to one-hundred-sixty kilotons of explosive death every five seconds." He smiled. "Joker, EDI- watch each other for growing god complexes."

"God complexes are the best kind of complexes, though." Joker murmured, dumbstruck. The ship lurched again, as he twisted the craft to avoid the oncoming shockwave, composed of a rapidly expanding cloud of vaporized armor and chitin. The ship weathered the shock with ease. Joker's professional edge reappeared, as if someone had flipped a switch. "We'll be reaching the Collector base in thirty seconds. Shuttle away in fifteen. Beginning pre-emptive bombardment of defense emplacements."

Jane and Harry's eyes locked from either end of the cramped shuttle, filled to the brim with the Normandy's away team. "Anyone see where the Auror team went?" a voice asked.

"They didn't make it to the shuttle in time. They can apparate over if they wish." Harry replied. A few moments later, the wizard caught Jane's attention and winked. She almost missed it, between everyone's last minute weapon-and-armor checks, barely noticing a new weight by her wrist. She looked down to see another tiny hold-out pistol- almost identical to the one that had destroyed a tank on Fehl Prime. She looked up. Harry winked again.

The shuttle shifted almost imperceptibly as it dropped from the Normandy's hold. Only when EDI twisted it sideways and hit the thrusters did the occupants feel any acceleration. Driven into the backs of their seats, the away team watched the Collector station grow closer on the shuttle's interior viewscreen. Larger and larger it seemed, as they closed the distance between them and the station. Then individual lights and fixtures could be made out on the viewscreen, as well as craters where debris had pitted and scraped the station's exterior. In a few areas, parts of the station were clearly quarantined and voiding atmosphere. Smoke as well as air vented from an airlock a few hundred meters up the hull.

"Station doesn't seem to be in good shape." Mordin said. "Visual examination reveals structural faults as well as signs of heavy fighting."

"How do you get that?" Kasumi asked. "I think the bulkhead's just been battered by the debris field for centuries."

"Not through examination of the bulkhead," Mordin shook his head, "But by examination of _those_." He pointed towards a few charred pieces of unknown material floating just outside one of the opened airlocks. "Omni-tool tells me that debris contains Collector tissue. I suspect they've been introduced to an exceedingly hot flame, or one of the strongest biotic warp attacks I've ever seen."

"We might have survivors, or even an active resistance," Harry sounded excited.

"Let's not get our hopes up." Miranda said. "We don't know how long those corpses have been floating there. For all we know, they're a thousand years old." The shuttle flew into a docking bay of some sort, and lost sight of the collector corpses.

"I detect active life-support here." EDI announced. "The collectors seem to use mass effect fields to contain a breathable atmosphere in some areas of the station, just like on the Citadel."

The shuttle touched down, and the craft's door slid open. The away team stepped out, guns ready. The floor seemed to be composed of some sort of chitinous material mixed with steel mesh. Dull lights in the floor and ceiling flickered. And-

"That's gunfire!" Shepard called out. She held up a fist, signalling for the group to stop. "Listen." she said. "It's far away, but that's an Avenger firing. Systems Alliance guns means survivors. The shots are coming from the far corridor," she pointed. "Double-time, people!" Shepard took off at a quick jog, quickly followed by the rest of the away team.

…

Draco never thought he'd learn about muggle guns. The topic just hadn't come up. Firearms had never been a concern, for him. It wasn't arrogance- they just weren't something he needed to worry about. Outside the occasional holiday vacation, he'd barely spent a single hour in the muggle world.

He never expected to actually shoot a muggle gun either, but clearly the universe had different ideas. He'd awakened from stasis only to find that the collectors had taken his wand, his portkeys, and his emergency beacon.

'Awakened from stasis' seemed such a tame way to put it. In truth, he'd crawled bleeding and drugged from his stasis pod when a stray bullet had shattered the hardened pane of glass keeping him contained, and passed through the _fucking barbed_ collector-chitin needle dripping sedatives into his arm. The pain had been enough to bring him out of the drug-induced coma that the collectors kept all their future experiments under. If the bullet had been a centimeter to the right, he'd never have woken up until he'd have been on the operating table.

That still sent shivers down his spine.

Draco popped up again over his miserable excuse for cover, and unloaded his rifle into the nearest Collector drone. Unshielded, and without a biotic barrier, two shots sprayed viscous yellow blood into the air as the drone collapsed in a heap. The blood hissed as it ate away at the floor. The drone's wings twitched, in some alien display of rigor mortis. Draco ducked down again, and looked over his exhausted group of resistance-fighters. One was a doctor, one an ex-soldier, one a failed lawyer, one a criminal. Two squibs, fraternal twins, and Draco.

And Her.

She was the leader of this little band of misfits, Draco knew. Without her, they'd have died days ago. And Draco still had no clue what she was. Human, obviously- that much was certain, but beyond that? He had no idea. He'd known precious little about biotics, like what she had, but even he knew that you couldn't hold biotic barriers for that long with that little effort. He and his comrades would have been taken by the seeker swarms ages ago, if not for those shields. Oh. And 'detonating' a singularity shouldn't cause structural damage on par with 16-inch american naval guns. A biotic warp should not be capable of eating through blast doors. A biotic throw shouldn't launch things made of flesh and bone through steel. And for god's sake, a biotic charge couldn't possibly be easier than walking the same distance! Urgh. Just like when he first learned to apparate.

Draco had even asked her how she'd become whatever she was. "If you mess with someone's head enough, you can turn a scared little kid into an all-powerful bitch." she'd said. When asked about her past -waiting for more collector attacks was boring as hell, so sue him- she'd been grim, except when talking about one topic.

"I met a man, once, in what I swear must've been the skeeviest dive bar in the galaxy. He stood out like a fucking krogan in a maternity ward- shiny everything, clean armor, dumb or suicidal enough to drink the shit behind the bar- and yet he never took his helmet off. Drank out of a straw. I sat down a few seats away, and he started talking. It's been years, but I still remember that he said, 'Take it from me- If you don't get your shit together and drop the victim complex, you'll never amount to anything more than a miserable excuse for a biotic hanging around shitty bars.' I think gunshots and biotic blasts were involved, after that. He got the better of me almost instantly, and let me go. Scared the shit out of me, at the time. About a month after I'd met him, I found myself actually thinking about what he said, and taking his advice. I wound up changing for the better, I think." Then, describing her change in a different conversation, she'd said, "I grew a pair -figuratively, get your mind out of the gutter- and got myself a half-decent set of morals. It was fucking profound."

It was all so quintessentially Jack.

They'd all changed, during the fighting. All but Draco. He'd taken to the chaos and the death like a duck to water. Sure, it brought back some… unpleasant… memories from the war, and from his time as a hit-wizard, but now that seemed like less of a worrisome statement about his psyche, and more of a gift from a higher power. The ease with which he'd started gunning down Collector drones and everything else even scared his fellow resistance-fighters, but he didn't care. And neither did Jack.

She hadn't been caring too much about anything for a few hours, ever since a Praetorian took off one of her arms just above the elbow. There was nothing left but a blackened stump. Cauterized, too- a mixed blessing. Muggle tech couldn't reattach prosthetics over flesh with no nerves, but at least she wouldn't bleed out. It wasn't like they were close enough to a med-center to reattach limbs anyway.

She'd soldier on, Draco knew, as he watched her sling another biotic warp one-handed into an oncoming scion. The thing practically vaporized itself under the power of Jack's biotics.

" **ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL."** Thundered a deep voice, reverberating and inhuman. Draco spun, rifle already spewing lances of supersonic death. Oh, how he hated those things- flight, strange dark-energy attacks, and heavy shielding were a vicious combination. The collector's shields, -even enhanced as they were- flickered under his stream of fire. Then the thing exploded. The possessed drone's bottom half crumpled to the floor with a sound more like a splat than a thud, while it's torso and everything above simply rained from the ceiling.

"We're friendlies!" called a voice Draco hadn't expected to hear ever again. "Hold fire, friendlies incoming!" He felt a rush of memories well up in the back of his mind.

No.

It couldn't be.

Could it?

A large group of heavily-armored combatants raced across the floor towards his position, downing Collectors with contemptuous ease. Approaching the barricades, they leapt across, and hunkered down.

"What's the situation?" Said a woman's voice, over the sound of gunfire. The sudden influx of her group's firepower had turned the tide, at least temporarily. It didn't take long to clear out the room. The omni-present buzzing of collector forces dulled as reinforcements headed for adjacent rooms to set up ambushes and reinforce other collector guard-forces. The woman -Jane Shepard, read a tag on her armor- began asking questions, and forming a battle plan. But Draco wasn't paying attention. He couldn't.

Not with Harry Potter -looking like he'd barely aged at all- in the same room.

"Damn, scarhead. I didn't think you were slytherin enough to fake your own death." Draco said. Potter's head whipped around, and a relieved smile crossed his face.

"Malfoy? Holy shit, what happened to your hair?" Potter did a double-take. "We found Lyra, by the way. She's safe." Harry said, stepping towards his old schoolyard rival.

"She's- Oh, Thank merlin." Draco's vision blurred. His knees felt weak, and an incomprehensible weight seemed to lift from his chest. Harry held out an arm. Draco took it, and the former enemies shook hands.

"Need a wand?" Harry said. He pulled a few wands and a holster from an expanded pocket, and fanned them out like a deck of cards. Draco took the holster, and ran his fingers over the wooden handles until he found a reasonably compatible match. In a rush of excited emotions, Draco _felt_ the wand connect with him. Green and silver sparks flew through the air, drawing startled gasps from some onlookers.

"Please." Draco took the outstretched stick from Harry's hands.

"Haven't seen you in a long, long time. Hundred-seventy years, at least." Draco murmured, allowing Shepard to continue planning as he caught up with Harry.

"That was… what, my victory-day speech?" Harry furrowed his brow.

"No. I wasn't at the ten-year-anniversary celebration. Didn't think I'd be too welcome. The courts said dear old Lucius had a kill-count in the low triple-digits, after all." Draco said. "Last I saw you was sometime in the late nineteen-nineties. The arcanophage, I think."

"Nasty business." Harry nodded.

"You were the one getting all our research samples in the field from all those goddamn cultists. I was just an arithmancer trying to figure the damn thing out." Said Draco.

"Still nasty business." Both wizards nodded.

"I won't deny that."

"A civil conversation. Huh. I think you've mellowed out, in your old age."  
"Shut up."

"No, really. You dropped the emo death-eater attitude, stopped persecuting muggleborns and 'blood traitors,'" Harry made airquotes, "and had kids. Hell, Scorpius even married a Weasley!" Harry paused. "Oh. And all your hair fell out."

"Fuck you." Draco said, but he couldn't help the smile creeping across his face.

"You've even started using muggle profanity!" Harry seemed entirely too smug for his own good. "Gone natural, have you?" Draco felt his attitude lift, for the first time in days. He smiled, and shook his head. Only somebody as crazy as Harry Potter could raise a man's morale by insulting them.

"I'm glad you're here." he finally said, swallowing the last vestiges of age-old pride. "You always could pull a victory out of your ass. Tom, as well as most of the bastards you took down learned that the hard way. I'll just hold out hope that you can do the same thing here."

"Damn straight." Harry replied, in a rare moment of introspection.

"Do you have any wounded?" Harry spoke up.

A heavily tattooed woman replied, eying him curiously. "I'm missing an arm, but there's nothing you can do about that. A few others have gunshot wounds, but mostly all through-and-through shots. Nothing some medi-gel won't fix."

"Mind if I take a look at your arm?" the wizard replied. "I can probably restore full functionality, if you'll let me."

"Bullshit." Jack said, but held out her injured arm, somewhat reluctantly. Harry rummaged around in his bag for a moment, coming up with a few potion vials.

"Here. Drink." he proffered a few odd-looking bottles. Jack, more tired and in pain than curious, gulped them down. Her face twisted in an expression of disgust.

"Blech. What is this shit?" she said. Harry held up one more vial, this one glowing gold.

"Drink." Harry ordered. Jack swallowed the potion more slowly, this time, surprised that it actually tasted good.

A few moments passed. "What are those supposed to do?" she said, gesturing towards the empty vials strewn around her feet.

"Blood-replenisher, regeneration, muscle-knitting, nerve-regenerator, skele-gro, and Elixir of Life." he pointed at each bottle. "Look at your arm."

And right before her eyes, her wrist and fingers grew from the blackened stump of her arm. At least, what _was_ the blackened stump of her arm. Now, it was bare flesh. Back to normal, minus the tattoos. Wisps of biotic energy formed around her new arm. Jack's gaze shot to the floor, trying to hide the tears forming in each eye. "Hey. Um… Thanks, mister." she said, voice suddenly hoarse.

"Happy to help." Harry said.

Jack could swear she'd heard his voice before.

"Alright. Listen up!" Shepard said, drawing the attention of all around her, as she passed out earpieces. Jack sat by her side, plowing through ration bars with her new hand. "I need you all to help me with this. You guys have been fighting in this base for days, at least. How much do you know about the station's layout?"

"Nearly nothing." spoke one of the squibs. He seemed to have taken the role of group spokesman. "Collectors have been trying to herd us in towards this one section of the station. We've been seeing a lot of strange things as we get closer, too. I keep saying-"

"It's not fucking magic!" the doctor cut in. "We-" Jane glared at the offending man. He quailed, and backed up a little too quickly.

"I'm not gonna tell you whether whatever you've seen is magic or not." Shepard said. "But whatever it is, it sounds interesting, and could be important. Do me a favor and explain the 'strange things' you've been seeing?"

"Odd lights, deep voices chanting. Stereotypical horror-movie stuff. But it's more than that. We've all been having nightmares, sometimes hallucinating. It's as if we're under the effects of some sort of drugs." Said the same spokesman.

Jane raised her omni-tool and scanned a few of the resistance-fighters. "I don't see anything wrong with you." she said.

"That's exactly what I'm worried about. The doc here has an advanced diagnosis program on his omni-tool, and he couldn't find anything either. So either the Collectors are flooding the area with aerosolized hallucinogens that are too complex for our omni-tools to detect…"

"...or everything you've seen is real." Jane finished the man's sentence, voice grim.

"Yeah."

"Why don't we prepare for the worst, just in case?" Harry strode forwards. "What sort of hallucinations have you been having? All the same thing? Everybody seeing something different, Gimme something."

"I- Uh… Well Hestor- the doctor, that is," the man pointed towards the bespectacled human who'd had the outburst, a moment ago. "Was sure he'd seen ghosts. Thousands of them. We walked into some sort of auditorium a few hours ago, and he nearly passed out."

"I told you, I didn't see anything!" The doctor protested. Droplets of sweat formed on his brow, and his voice grew high, and reedy. His hands quivered wildly, before he balled them into fists. His eyes darted across the room.

He was lying, but he wasn't convincing anyone.

"Translucent figures, most of them humanoid, but… Strange. Different races, even." The squib continued, despite the doctor's protestations. "He said some of them seemed faded as if by age, almost crystal clear, sometimes. The clearest was some sort of bat-squid thing combined with the Geth Dreadnought that attacked the Citadel." The squib frowned. "Then he stopped talking, and froze up for a minute. After that, he wouldn't stop denying what he'd seen."

"I'm telling you-" Hestor cried out, face an ugly red. "I didn't…" He froze. "The darkness cannot be breached." His voice had dropped an octave, and was steady now. His hands were strangely still, no longer quivering. Unnatural silence spread like a plague.

Harry cast a diagnostic spell, and a glow surrounded the doctor. Information streamed into the wizard's mind. "Physically fit, but mentally…" the wizard murmured.

"The darkness cannot be breached." the man whispered.

Harry stalked forwards. A silvery cloak draped itself over his shoulders. _When did he put on a cloak?_ Draco wondered. "Where's this 'auditorium?'" Harry asked, suddenly serious.

"The darkness cannot be breached." Hestor said again.

"That's not normal." The squib seemed taken aback by the doctor's change in behavior. "Back that way a few hundred feet," he answered Harry's question, pulling his attention away from the situation. "Big blue sphere in the middle, you can't miss it."

"Fucking leviathan, again." Harry cursed. "Well, I guess even dead gods still dream."

" **You have breached the darkness. You will be destroyed."** Hestor's voice thundered, overlayed this time by something greater than before. Distorted and deep, his voice echoed through the halls of the Collector base.

"What the fuck is that!" Garrus cried out.

"That's the dead god." Harry replied.

"Um, dead god?" Draco spoke up, looking uncomfortable with the conversation. "What 'dead god?'"

"A Leviathan. They're the second closest things to gods that I've actually met." Harry explained. "This is part of the ghost of one." Then, forestalling any questions, he added, "I should know, I killed the last three of them."

"Both of you aren't making any goddamn sense." Shepard's nerves were fraying. "Do you have a fix for this, or not?"

"Yeah. Give me a minute and he should be back to normal. I just need to remove the Leviathan's conduit to the mortal world. I'd rather not have a mind-magic pissing match right now." Harry replied. He took off at a jog towards the auditorium, leaving curious gazes and mumblings in his wake. He vanished from sight, as the corridor took a turn. The Elder Wand buzzed happily in his hand, while the Ressurection Stone materialized on his finger. The Cloak, draped across his shoulders, seemed to shimmer more and more brightly.

A few minutes later, and past a few Collector drones, Harry found the auditorium. Though 'auditorium' was a bit of a misnomer. It was _massive_. From one side to the other, it must have spanned the whole lower section of the collector base. Tiered steps and coliseum-seating covered the arena's floors, descending to an altar of some kind. There, in the center of the room, was the artifact the squib had described. A glowing blue sphere hovered above the altar, surrounded by collectors. Strange bursts of energy seemed to connect the artifact and some of the drones. Their movements seemed even more unsettling than normal, even bordering on unnatural.

Liberal application of the reductor curse solved all the drones' material problems.

Harry flew towards the sphere, landing not far from the altar itself. He stepped up to the artifact, wand in one hand, Resurrection Stone in the other. Almost absentmindedly, he turned the pebble over in his hand once, then twice, then three times. And with an almost inaudible _whoosh!_ Ghosts began to appear.

Around him, covering every seat, on every step, sat ghosts of species long passed into the annals of history. Near the very top of the auditorium, Harry was almost sure he recognized a few species from the Reaper's memories he'd stolen when he'd first stepped through the Veil. Those closest to him, he could barely make out, but each creature became clearer and more distinct the further he looked. Age, it seemed, did indeed make ghosts fade into translucency. These must be representatives of every race ever indoctrinated by the Leviathans, and Harvested by the Reapers, Harry mused. And hovering above the altar, more a presence than a visible form, was a Leviathan.

" **You have breached the darkness."** it said.

"I could tell." Harry replied, scornful. "Now, figment- Why are you here?"

" **I monitor the Cycles."**

"You're _dead._ " said the wizard. "Deceased, shuffled from the mortal coil. There's nothing left for you to do. Why are you here?"

" **Penance."** Harry rocked back on his heels in surprise. The Leviathan spoke again. " **I engineered what you call the Reapers. I must atone."**

"And 'atoning' includes taking over people's minds."

" **The last conveyor of my will sits before you."** the sphere upon the altar grew bright, shining an eerie pale blue. " **The pawns who hold this station try to summon me from beyond the plane of the living. They will succeed, given time. I seek a servant to carry my conduit to safety."**

"What if I shot your 'conduit?'" Harry said, raising a gun to point at the sphere. Something flashed before his eyes. For a second, he was somewhere else, an infinite plane of grey nothingness.

" **OBEY."** The leviathan said, voice a crash of thunder. A chill passed through him. But the noise didn't hurt his ears like Harry thought it would. His eardrums were still intact. The sanctity of his mind was still secure. The chill remained, for a moment.

Harry had felt something like that before, though. His thoughts raced back to Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday party, back in his second year. Ghosts gave you a chill whenever they pass through you. Apparently, so did their legilimency attacks.

The Leviathan was a ghost. Harry was the Master of Death. The wizard froze, for a few seconds, brain racing frantically. His fist closed around the resurrection stone, and the Elder Wand whispered in his ear.

"Get out of here." Harry said to the Leviathan, drawing on his magic. Energy rushed down his arms, and into the Hallows. "Go!" Harry's power sought to fulfill his wishes, flailing through the Resurrection stone. And to his amazement, something caught. He exerted his will, and the Leviathan's spirit shivered, shaking wildly like a flag in a gale, before fading into nothing. The sphere on the altar turned black, losing its lustre and shine.

Then, at the top rows of the auditorium, there was a burst of light. Slowly at first, then faster, like a sea of flashbulbs going off, the ghosts that surrounded the wizard vanished in flashes of spectral light.

Joyful whispers pierced the air, in alien tongues and cadences. Somehow, Harry knew that this was the sound of all the Leviathan's enthralled servants receiving their final reward. The susurrus rose in volume until the walls seemed to vibrate, before slowly dying down.

The arena was silent, until a breath of wind rushed through the room. So soft he almost thought he'd imagined it, Harry heard a small voice.

" _Thank you."_ it said.

Harry bowed his head, and _reducto-_ ed the sphere on the altar into dust.

When he returned to the group, he found most of them finishing off an oncoming wave of Collector Drones. The few not putting bullets downrange- a couple of the resistance fighters- were restraining the man who'd been indoctrinated by the Leviathan.

"...some giant creature!" The man yelled. He was hysterical. "And you!" he cried, as Harry approached. His eyes darted frantically, and great, fat tears rolled down his face. "It was practically civil with you! You pissed it off, and resisted it! What the hell are you!"

"Here. Drink." Harry thrust a calming draught into the man's hands, and brought them up to his lips, pouring the liquid down his throat. The hysterics abated moments later, though the man's chest still heaved with ragged breaths, and spots of color still reddened his cheeks.

The resistance fighters -as well as some of the Normandy away team- looked on with interested eyes. Hestor relaxed, allowing himself to lean against his cover. His breathing slowed, less harsh than it had been mere moments previously. Harry stood.

"Now's not the time." The wizard said, dismissing the hysteric man's words. "What's the plan, Shepard?" The auditorium's clear. But we've caught the attention of collector forces now. Probably best if we don't stay in one place."

"Everyone ready to move out?" Shepard said, voice carrying over the hushed din of reloading weapons and medi-gel infusions. A murmured general assent reached her ears, as the resistance group slowly stood, clutching their weapons close to them.

The platform the group stood on lurched. Only once they'd all caught their balance, did Jane realize that it wasn't just the platform that had shifted.

"Where are the captives?" Shepard said, voice urgent. Draco took charge of the resistance group, pulling out reserves of confidence he didn't know he had. He waved his borrowed wand, and a glowing silver ferret shot from the wand's tip. It squeaked, and rushed to the head of the group.

"Follow my Patronus." Draco announced. "It'll lead you to the rest of the captives, in case I fall behind." The ferret took off down a corridor. "This way, then." Draco said, breaking into a light jog. He picked up the pace, as the rest of the group rose to follow him. A few collector drones popped their heads from cover ahead- Draco, with his borrowed wand- cast a pair of reductor curses as he passed them, leaving nothing but liquified and oozing chitin dripping across the floor.

The distant sputter, then sucking roar of immense fusion-torches provided an ominous backdrop to their run. The whole station lurched sideways. A few members of the away team nearly lost their footing, before catching themselves. Harry checked his omni-tool. Steadying it enough to comprehend the information on the screen was a battle against the pounding of his feet on the chitinous floor. "I think the collectors might be trying to push the station closer to the black hole!" he said, alarmed. "But why?"

"You and I are valuable targets?" Jane said, speculating. "Is that enough of a reason?"

"I suppose." Harry acquiesced in between breaths. "But I don't feel like that's it."

"Nothing's ever easy." Jane muttered.

"There's something else here." Harry speculated. "Something we're overlooking. Our goal is to rescue the abductees- How does that conflict with whatever plan the Collectors have?"

"They definitely needed their captives alive." Jane said. "Else they wouldn't go to such lengths to capture us humans. Orbital bombardment would be a hell of a lot cheaper."

Harry paled. "Oh, _bloody_ hell." He steps lengthened, as he picked up the pace. "The Leviathan said the Collectors were trying to pull it back to life, I assume to torture it for secrets, or other Reaper nastiness. Naturally, the Leviathan didn't want to be summoned. So the Collectors might be trying to do some sort of brute-force ritual to summon everything in an approximate extraplanar area."

"English, please?" Jane ground out.

"Uhm- most planes of existence are like parallel layers of glass." Harry explained in between heavy breaths. "Or a game of three-dimensional chess." He led the procession of rapidly-moving armored figures down another hallway, "Really close to each other, but never touching. Things from above leave shadows on the layers below, which manifest as paranormal activities or other occurrences. I don't have the textbook with me, so I've got to give you the cliffnotes. So the Leviathan would be in a plane metaphorically above ours- it's showing up as a ghost here because whatever layer it's supposed to be on is close enough for its shadow to show on the piece of glass below it. Or, depending on how you look at it, it's in transit to that plane, just closer to here than there-"

"There was a very good reason why I joined the Alliance military, rather than majoring in fucking string theory. Get to the point." Jane huffed, impatience staining her words.

"Human sacrifice." Harry breathed. "It's the only rational explanation."

"There's nothing rational about human sacrifice." Shepard said.

"No, really. It's an impressive -if morally repulsive- source of power." the wizard said. "I think they planned to use human souls to pull the Leviathan onto this plane. They're gonna make an incredibly unstable portal and hope for the best. And just deal with everything coming through that isn't the Leviathan."

"So other than this… Leviathan-thing, there might be more coming through the portal?" Liara, of all people, spoke up. "What sort of 'other stuff?' Could you explain why you're worried? I suppose I'm not understanding the situation to the fullest."

"Shut up and run!" Tali cursed, taking heavy breaths. "Let the magic bosh'tet explain."

"There's almost nothing friendly on other planes of existence," Harry said. "Our plane is simply violently alien -pardon the pun- to them, as their reality would be for us. Everything coming through is gonna be violent to the extreme. And if you remember my little metaphor of a bunch of parallel panes of glass, or three-dimensional chess, it wouldn't be too far off the mark to say that the collectors plan to pull the Leviathan here by shoving a railroad spike through all the panes of glass in the area approximately closest to the Leviathan, and pulling out a core sample."

"That sounds… dangerous?" Garrus sounded out-of-his-depth.

"It's violently suicidal." Harry said. " The Collectors will most likely keep the portal open til the Leviathan arrives, which will take much longer than they expect, since I destroyed their focus. Extraplanar GPS, if you will. That big blue ball in the auditorium was connected to the Leviathan, so it would be much easier to pull the leviathan through the planes using the sphere as a guide." His voice turned sheepish. "And I bet that they're not going to stop on account of the danger of keeping the portal open- it'll just access more places across the multiverse, meaning more dangerous nasty shit. They have guns, and don't care about the loss of human lives, so there's no downside for them."

"So things have gotten a bit more serious?" Jane summarized.

"That's a vast oversimplification, but yes."

"Then that's all I needed to know."

…...

"Where are all the colonists?" Jane's voice echoed off the chamber's far walls, as the group took a quick breather. Members of the away team took quick sips from canteens, or scarfed down combat-rations. Draco devoured more than a few of the nutrient-packs- food was hard to find on the Collector base. He was still unfamiliar with the suit of armor Harry had pulled from an expanded storage pocket, but he was certainly grateful for the protection it offered.

"Being taken for the ritual, maybe?" Draco said, gazing uncomfortably at his new surroundings. "We haven't been seeing a defensive force totally equivalent to the attacking one I saw on Guevara."

This was definitely a change in scenery- The area they'd just entered stretched for literal miles, almost the length of the entire Collector base. Harry knew in the back of his mind that the Leviathan's auditorium had to be behind the closest end of the room. This chamber was an open cylindrical area encompassing the core of the station. Structurally, everything else was arrayed around the its exterior, slipped in between the chamber and the station's outermost bulkheads. A strange mist of fine yellow particles filled the air, leaving the far end of the chamber shrouded in a cloak of dust. Everything smelled old, like books whose paper had yellowed, aged, and cracked to the point where dog-earing a page would crack that corner off. But the scent was not only of age, but of decay. Every few hundred feet was another shell of a collector that appeared to have collapsed, whether from age, disease, or disrepair no one could tell. Each shell was light, as only the dead collector's chitinous carapace still remained. Its organs had long since rotted away or dried up, leaving shrunken, mummified orbs impaled by burnt-out cybernetics spearing through the inside of the shell. Some were more recently deceased, leaking foul-smelling fluids onto the floor.

Along the sides of the cylindrical chamber, odd honeycomb structures were anchored into the walls, supported by thick tubes of grey-black metal. Strange glowing lights ran the length of each tube, which flickered as the tubes seemed to expand and contract over time. The hexagonal shapes in the sides of some of the structures were filled and capped by smooth grey chitin, and guarded heavily by drones, husks, and the occasional praetorian.

Moving towards the end of the chamber, the group ran along the only pathway accessible to them. It was a series of platforms and walkways attached to the side of the chamber- midway up the cylinder's edges. Jane wondered why the collectors used gravity-generators rather than simple centrifugal force. Perhaps it impeded their flight, somehow? She wasn't sure.

"I woke up here." Draco said a few minutes later, pointing down a narrow hallway. "I escaped out the other side, and met up with Jack-" he gestured vaguely in her direction- "and the rest of the resistance group. But this whole area was covered in stasis pods filled with colonists- where could they have gone?"

The group kept a brisk pace, heading towards the other end of the chamber. As they got closer and closer to the other end, hundreds of blinking orange lights gradually faded out of the yellow mists. "Now those have to be stasis pods," Draco mused. "But not nearly enough of them. There were thousands upon thousands of them when I woke up."

"Let's keep going. The collectors haven't caught up yet, but they'll be able to overwhelm us with sheer numbers unless we find a chokepoint." Jane knew best, always keeping herself in tune with the swing of combat, always ready to adjust her strategy down to the smallest detail. That was why she was so valuable. Being one of the strongest biotics in the galaxy certainly helped, but she'd have been in the N7 program even without her biotics on sheer weapon-skill and guts. "We'll just have to hope for decent cover around the summoning area." she finally murmured.

Then, at the very furthest part of the room, something gleamed. A wave of black magic shuddered through the air with a malignant laugh. There was a sparkle, then the gleaming pinprick of light grew, glowing in the yellowed mist like a searchlight through a pea-soup fog. A high-pitched crackle of furious energy swept through the room.

There was a scream, sharp and strident. It was cut off, reduced to an almost inaudible gurgle. Something roared.

"Bloody fucking hell." Harry swore, coming to a halt. "They've fucking done it. Opened the portal."

Someone gasped."We're too late."


	18. Black Hole Sun

Hello all! General status update: I'm in the process of completely rewriting Chapter 1, as the way it currently sits is unacceptable. So that's at least partially to blame for how long this chapter took to come out.

Feel free to send me feedback- I answer most PMs and reviews. Specifically for this chapter, I'd like to get some opinions. Did I jump any sharks? Nuke suspension of disbelief?

Ah, well. Here you go. Enjoy!

P.S. There is some use of BOLD-ALL-CAPS speech from one or more individuals in this chapter. The difference between the two is the italics. (They're not talking to each other, and aren't in the same scenes. Still, I figure I should warn you.) Their identities will be immediately obvious, as well. I made extra sure of that.

 **Last Chapter:**

" _Bloody fucking hell." Harry swore, coming to a halt. "They've fucking done it. Opened the portal."_

 _Someone gasped."We're too late."_

"Not yet we aren't." the wizard's voice turned grim. "Our goal is still to rescue the abductees. This just means we'll be coming home with a few less than were taken. The Collectors must've had to kill a few hundred people to open the portal, for the activation-energy alone. But callous as it seems, that's still only a single-digit percentage of the total number of colonists they took. Now they've got to keep it open until the Leviathan pours through, which means constant sacrifices to keep the portal topped up. It will close if it runs out of energy. So if we can keep killing the collectors that are sacrificing people, it'll be over. Eventually… I hope." He set a quick pace, heading for the portal. "Let's move. People are dying."

That was all that needed saying.

…...

The team charged through the curtains of yellowing dust, towards the far end of the room. Surprisingly, they found no resistance. The walkways on both sides of the chamber were almost eerie. There were no husks, no Collectors here.

"They must have pulled everything back to surround the portal, and the abductees." Jane surmised.

"We're already outnumbered." Tali said. "With all their forces concentrated in one place…" The portal at the far end of the room flickered, changing color and shape wildly. Another scream tore through the air.

Garrus replied, calling his answer from the back of the group. "Quality over quantity." The ground team's footfalls clanged against the floors as the chitin receded. Ancient metal covered the floors, pitted and dusty from disuse.

"Quantity has a quality of it's own." said Harry. "Don't underestimate them. We've got plenty of guns, but they've got plenty more." Far above the group, a series of tubes extended from the ceiling, running along the roof of the chamber. They ran towards the end of the room, where they met a series of empty glass chambers. Below all that, supported by some sort of gantry, hung a massive human skull and a bare-bones framework of a human torso. Both were made of a familiar black material, and appeared to be in very early stages of construction. Liara could see all the way through some parts of the skull, and the chest only had a single rib, held up by a few vertebrae.

"Why were the Collectors trying to build a human out of reaper-metal?" she said. Liara almost stumbled, as she'd stopped looking at the floor in favor of the skull.

"Don't know. But we're blowing it all up after this, so they'll never get to complete it." said Harry.

"Good." Miranda murmured.

The pathway the ground team had been running down shifted slightly, moving towards a set of stairs, as well as a series of raised platforms with a few consoles and cargo spaces aboard. Jane almost froze as she reached the top of the stairway, as the pathway suddenly ended. It dropped off into thin air, down to the bottom level of the chamber. "Well shit." she said, barely audible. "EDI, what can you give me?"

"Those platforms are equipped with hover-modules." EDI's voice played through Shepard's helmet. "I should be able to take control and bring you to the portal area."

"Alright. Everyone on board!" Shepard called, as she stepped onto the platforms, soon followed by the rest of the ground team. The platforms detached from the walkway with a heavy ***clunk*** and moved -slowly at first, then picking up speed- towards the end of the chamber.

"Damn. Well, at least this is faster than moving on foot." Jacob said. "But if these get shot up, we could lose our only avenue of escapeif things turn sour."

"I could...Hm." Harry cut himself off, surprised. He cast a few spells at some rubble left on the platform. The rocks glowed blue, and vanished. The wizard paused, as if waiting for something. His frown deepened over the next few moments. "Just a word of warning- I don't think I can portkey anyone out." Harry finally said. "Maybe it's proximity to the black hole that's messing things up, or something else, but I'm not sure. I'm fairly certain that portkeys here will send the user straight into the black hole, rather than their destination. Let's just be more careful here, as I'm not sure whether or not apparation will do the same, and I'm not willing to test."

In the distance, the glowing form of the portal grew brighter. As the hovering platforms approached, it got larger and larger, as the team got a sense of scale. Flashes of light and scenes straight out of an acid trip flickered by. A blast of lightning shot from the portal, accompanied by a scene reminiscent of the storms of Hagalaz. It grounded against the ceiling, after passing through a small cloud of airborne dots.

"Collector mistake." Mordin was happy, at least. "Energy discharge seems to have destroyed main seeker swarm. Perhaps conductive metallic creatures should not be placed around possible energy sources."

"Don't have to worry about the bugs anymore. Sweet." Kasumi murmured. The group got a better view of the portal a moment later, as the yellow dust dispersed in this area of the chamber.

The portal was situated atop a staircase running from the bottom edge of the tube-shaped chamber to somewhere around the midsection. Surrounding it, Collector drones and husks milled wildly about. On either side, cages held humans- hundreds of them. Stasis pods hovered past each cage, dropping their contents into the pen below. Then each stasis pod had it's eezo core ripped out, and was tossed haphazardly down the stairway, piling up at the bottom. Some bounced oddly, smashing inches deep into the metalwork and sticking, like strange chitinous obelisks. The rest simply crashed down the stairs, shattering and rolling end-over end into the ever-growing pile of stasis-pods.

"Why would the Collectors _do_ that?" Tali, more so than the rest of the team, was shocked. "Those things must be filled with useful components. Why are they just taking the eezo?"

"Well…huh." Harry frowned. "Leviathans need Element Zero in order to move without being in constant pain. Or in order to travel between systems, or for faster-than-light travel. But why would they be providing for an enemy's needs? Unless-hm. If I recall correctly, the leviathan said ' _The pawns who hold this station try to summon me from beyond the plane of the living. They will succeed, given time. I seek a servant to carry my conduit to safety._ ' I assumed 'safety' meant away from the Collectors, and offered to shoot the anchor- the big blue ball. Then it attacked. I don't suppose it wanted to be in the hands of the Collectors? That… They'd bring it back to life. It wants that, and It can probably indoctrinate all of them with ease." The wizard's head drooped. "Bloody hell. I guess we'll just have to hope that the Leviathan's dimension takes its sweet time linking up with the portal, or that we can shut it down soon. Bloody creatures won't be underestimating me again, so we'll have one hell of a fight on our hands if it gets through."

"We'll have one hell of a fight on our hands no matter what." Shepard said, glancing over the edge of the platform again and surveying the portal and the soon-to-be battleground. The portal itself was massive. Large enough to pull a Leviathan through, and those were almost one-hundred-fifty meters tall, according to Harry. It looked to be a perfect circle cut in space. Jane wondered what would happen if someone touched the very edge.

Things poured from the portal constantly, as it changed. The image warped and spun, twisting and shaking. One moment, the image seemed to be dirt and stone, as if it had appeared underground. Rocks poured through, some of them massive. The largest was cut cleanly in half when it was caught in the portal as the scene shifted. The portal showed only blackness then, before a screech went up, echoed by a thousand throats. Arachnid forms far larger than spiders had any right to be started to launch themselves through, immediately attacking the Collector forces arrayed around the portal's edge. Only a few made it past the portal's aperture before it changed, and those that did were slaughtered by massed gunfire.

Gunshots pattered against the floating platform. "Find cover!" Harry called out. Praetorians rose from the ranks of the Collectors, closing the distance rapidly.

"Abrasive maneuvers!" Liara called out.

"It's evasive, not abrasive, dumbfuck!" Jack yelled in reply, head turning to face Liara. The asari blushed. Jack ducked her head, reddening with a blush of her own. Liara pulled out a pistol and took aim at the approaching Praetorian, even as her cheeks took on a purple tone. The platform lurched, as EDI attempted to put the team down somewhere safe. Everyone aboard the platforms held on for dear life, as EDI tilted and shook them first one way, then the other to dodge the Praetorian's energy blasts.  
Finally, she managed to land the platforms halfway up the grand staircase. Rapid footfalls and sighs of relief accompanied the team as they leapt off the platforms, glad to be further from the deathtrap. Then, accelerating much faster, EDI took the platforms, and rammed the two Praetorians into the ceiling. There was an audible * _squish_ *. Dust, slime, and strange particulate matter fell from the cracked ceiling far above. Then, engines failing, the AI dropped the sputtering platforms onto the collector forces at the top of the stairway. She must have deactivated the platform's eezo modules at some point, as they hit with a thunderous screech of rending metal and shattering stone.

The group took a moment to reload and rearm, as they were still hidden from the top of the stairs by the wreckage of the platforms they'd flown in on, as well as fallen stasis-pods. Hundreds of empty pods had accumulated across the stairway, some broken, some covered in blood. All of them had been pushed down from above by the collectors once the human in the pod had been killed. Luckily, they seemed fairly solid.

"Here's some mobile cover." Harry announced, hovering a few stasis pods. "These'll should be able to take some bullets."

"Wonderful." Jane murmured. Then, louder, "We're about to walk into hell." She announced. "And we're gonna walk out intact. Hear that? No heroics. Keep yourselves safe out there, and watch your backs." She received nods and affirmatives from all quarters, and started up the stairway at a jog. Her weapons practically gleamed, and wisps of biotic energy materialized around her hands in anticipation. Harry, running right beside her, floated a number of stasis-pods a fair distance in front, serving as some form of cover.

The ground team followed shortly afterwards, with a mix of eagerness and trepidation.

Jane's reached the top of the stairs, and instantly noticed the abductees. Hundreds, even thousands of pods hung in rows, hovering in thin air along the side of the platform. Up on a raised dais at either end of the room, Collector drones in ceremonial garb pulled pods down, and ripped their occupants from the needles and the spikes inside. Then, as she watched, one of the drones brought its captive to a nearby table -an altar of some kind?- and stabbed the colonist through the chest with a strange vibrating blade. An aura of malice pulsed outward, laughing -deep, and heavy like a drumbeat. Blood and viscera fountained into the air. The abductee let out a gurgling shriek, clutching at his midsection, before the drone shoved him off the table, and out of sight. There was a pit behind the altars, one at either end of the room, Jane realized with a start. A pit where the Collectors were dumping the abductees' bodies.

Shepard had more than a sneaking suspicion that she knew what the dark liquid pooling on the floor around the altars was.

A split second later, the team was spotted. A chilling screech rose up, as legions of husks charged towards them. Strangely, it seemed as if the Collectors were unwilling to shoot into their cannon fodder in order to hit the ground team. "Grenades!" Shepard yelled, priming and tossing a pair of grey cylinders from her utility-belt. They bounced, lost in the sea of screaming husks, before erupting in thunderous biotic explosions. Collector drones took to the sky, or found cover. A pair of battered praetorians - _still sparking! Perhaps they were also hit by the lightning-bolt_ \- buzzed into the air, twitching spastically. Further off, a small group of Scions groaned, lumbering awkwardly into the fray.

A volley of grenades, unintentionally synchronized, arced over the first few ranks of collectors before exploding into furious light and sound. The flame of Zaeed's inferno grenades mingled freely with biotic detonations, high explosives, tear gas, and flash-bangs.

Harry's eyes flickered, first one way, then the other. So many husks were dead already. The bodies were piling up, but still more surrounded him and the rest of the ground crew. Gunfire could only do so much against a force of suicidal robot-zombies whose only goal was to bury you under sheer numbers and eat your brain. And, despite their makeshift cover, a few husks were able to get past the stasis pods hovering a few inches from the ground. They'd been put down handily by Tali with her shotgun, but still. Something had to be done, before the swarming drones managed to pull themselves together and do something strategically useful. Looking around, the wizard noted that more stasis-pods had been piled up near the top of the stairs. Perhaps…

With a simple wave of his hand, the pile of stasis-pods _exploded_ towards the massed collector forces. Creaking and rending metal grated against the floor, loud enough that Harry was glad to be wearing a helmet. Then the pods struck. Scions and drones splattered under the weight and crashing force of the impact, spraying the goo that ran through their veins across the floor. Husks were flattened, or sent flying. Sparking nanomachines mixed haphazardly with human blood and fluids across the floor.

Behind the army, the portal changed, shifting and shuddering. One moment, it was a lush forest, looking up at a foggy sky occupied by a great blue gas giant, with swirls and eddies in the planet's atmosphere visible even from the ground. Pale fog poured through the portal, almost clinging to the floor. A few horse-like creatures shied away from the portal, startled at its sudden appearance. More inquisitive animals padded forwards. A small herd of six-legged dog-creatures sniffed briefly, before parading through the hole in space.

But more sinister aspects of the planet soon revealed themselves as the atmospheres mingled. Even more mist spilled into the ritual chamber, sinking quickly towards the ground. The closest human -the next sacrifice- soon began choking. The abductee's hands went to his throat, as he tried to inhale. Until one of the decorated Collectors plunged its blade into his chest, he gasped helplessly for breath that wouldn't come. Even some of the collectors started collapsing within the cloud of fog.

"Get down!" Garrus called out, as he lobbed an incendiary grenade into the mist. The explosive bounced across the floor, noise drowned out by gunshots and screeching collectors.

Then it went off, and it seemed as if the entire platform erupted in fire. Garrus started at the conflagration in shock. The cracks of bullets pattering across his shields brought him out of his stupor. "My Omni-tool said that mist was flammable, but I didn't expect…" he trailed off.

"Helmets stay on." Jane murmured through the squad's radio-channel, though she wasn't sure she'd be heard over the sound of screaming, burning collectors and gunshots. "That was a poisonous atmosphere. There's no way to know what inhaling the smoke could do." True to her words, collectors even outside the flames quivered, then fell to the ground. "Get the colonists out of here!" She called, eyes flicking to the cages of bleeding abductees, unprotected from the toxic smoke, and worryingly close.

Harry nodded quickly, and levitated both cages towards the edge of the platform. A few flicks of his wand created an archway, transfigured from the metal in the wall at the far end of the room. Something shimmered, and a familiar portal ripped open. Jane had been through that portal before- the arch the wizard had created led to the pocket dimension he'd opened when revealing the existence of magic to EDI, Miranda and Jacob. The two cages came to rest just inside the archway, before Harry vanished them into nothing. Terrified colonists scattered, running deeper into the pocket dimension. Medical supplies materialized around them, as trees and flowers bloomed, and bore fruit.

The wizard waved his arm again, and the thousands upon thousands of filled stasis pods began to fly, one after the other, through the archway.

The Collector's portal shimmered again, revealing a hard landscape of jagged crevasses, and canyons, all sandstone and crags. Jane caught a glimpse of a pyramid carved from the rock, with an enormous stone head on top. Water cascaded from an obelisk carved out of the top of the statue's head, falling down into the obscuring mists at the bottom of one ravine. With a jarring sense of surreality, Shepard caught a glimpse of more pyramids, more obelisks- and above all of them, vast spires of rock, seemingly anchored in the clouds above, like mile-long stalactites. Some loomed low, almost scraping the ground with city-sized edges.

The portal flickered. A skull a thousand feet long sat mouldering, halfway submerged in a swamp of brown and grey. A few torches gleamed in the mist. Hundreds of small rectangular objects poked up from the ground. Gravestones, Shepard noticed. A massive sucking noise filled the air, and Jane would later swear she'd seen the skull lifting from the muck. Then, mercifully, the portal changed once more. "Harry," Shepard called over the radio, "Can you tell me anything about the places we're seeing?"

"I'm not a tour guide." The wizard said, busy shooting down collector drones in flight.

"What is it, though?" Shepard wondered.

"Other planes of existence." Harry paused for a moment, focusing solely upon an especially durable scion. "Some of them don't really agree with our edition of physics, and some of them are a hell of a lot older than ours, or just coming into existence. Some planes are just an endless sucking void. It's best not to learn too much about places too far beyond our own reality."

"What's the portal, though? What's it made of, how can we disrupt it?" Shepard asked trying to find some advantage, some way to swing the fight in her favor.

"The portal's a jagged hole in reality, poking holes into other realities." Harry tried to explain. "It's unstable, too. That's why everything caught in it gets cut in half when it changes."

"And how do we shut it down?" Shepard said, as she put a biotic warp through an approaching scion.

"We wait." Harry said. "I've already stopped the sacrifices. It should close on its own."

Jane thought for a moment. "Won't the Leviathan slice itself in half as the portal changes destinations?"

"Don't think so." The wizard replied, as he unloaded a rifle into a battered praetorian. "I think a Leviathan has enough force of will to keep the portal open." The praetorian started to dissolve, as its carapace cracked and fragmented under automatic-weapons-fire.

The Collector's portal flickered once more, displaying nothing but a blackened hellscape.

Shapes loomed out of the darkness, blending in with the shadows cast by a massive blazing sun just slipping over the horizon. Vaguely reminiscent of pictures from the second world war, trenches and barbed-wire covered the landscape, interspersed with craters. Some were simply holes large enough to twist an ankle in, while others were massive. Giant pockmarks in the ground from artillery fire broke up the scenery. Not a shred of grass could be seen. Limbs poked out of the ground, all in various stages of putrefaction. Some still twitched. Skulls and bones were strewn haphazardly, and what little wood or fuel there was had flames dancing upon it. In the distance, vast plumes of smoke and ash rose into a blazing crimson sky. Tali caught a whiff of brimstone, strong enough to still have a distinct smell even through her enviro-suit's rebreather. Malice and pain were to be etched eternally upon the landscape visible through the aperture.

And the portal hadn't changed.

The last couple times the portal had flickered and jerked to the next dimension, it had taken barely thirty seconds for it to change once more. But moments passed. Injuries rose across the ground crew- A bullet had grazed Jack's leg, Kasumi had gotten too close to a husk, been detected, and was forced to kill it with her monomolecular blade. In the process, she'd acquired a gash down one arm, and a bite mark. She was chipper enough to continue, despite her injuries. She was already joking that she'd gotten a 'hickey from hell' and lived to tell the tale.

Liara had lost the very tip of one pinky finger to a blade. She'd promptly eviscerated the offending collector, and -for a long, embarrassing moment- started to worry about how uncultured she'd look at high-society asari parties without a raised pinky finger. Jack snapped her out of her miniature panic-moment, and the two shared some sort of an understanding before they turned into a whirling blur of biotic blasts and devastation.

Jacob and Miranda had both been caught in the same Scion's blast, barely escaping intact. Blood seeped from Miranda's left arm, though she didn't seem to notice the crimson stain slowly growing on her sleeve. Jacob was the worse for wear, with a spider-web crack in the center of his breastplate and a deep dent that almost impeded his breathing.

Surprisingly, Draco Malfoy and Tali-Zorah were the only untouched members of the ground crew. Harry's armor had taken a beating, as sniper-fire had focused on him first. That had ended when he'd fired off ten or fifteen guided incinerate modules in quick succession. Jane herself had run afoul of one of the last living praetorians, and sported a long scar of blackened, melted metal down the upper-section of her chestplate.

Even EDI's plates had been dented and pitted by the constant gunfire and explosives. Her mechanical form had taken a beating as she'd been mowing down husks in melee range.

Time froze, as a massive clawed fist took hold of the portal's edge.

"Oh, hell." Harry murmured. "Looks like leviathans aren't the only things strong enough to hold the portal open."

Whatever creature was attached to the giant hand soon became visible, as it stepped into view. Slowly, almost ponderously, it ducked its head in order to fit through the portal. First one cloven hoof, then the other stepped through, crushing any collectors caught beneath them. Batlike wings extended from the thing's back, giving it a wingspan as long as an aircraft carrier. Leathery red skin covered the creature, cracked and scarred and oozing. Flames wrapped around the creature's armored wrist, resolving into a whip. Along one arm, black armor covered red skin all the way up to a massive shoulder-guard. And horns the size of telephone poles extended from the thing's head.

" _ **Ahh… FINALLY."**_ Said the devil. It raised both arms in triumph, brandishing clenched fists. " _ **I HAVE RETURNED!"**_ Four blazing eyes burned brightly, giving off a sinister glare. " _ **AND ALL THE WORLDS SHALL TREMBLE!"**_

Almost as one, the collector forces opened fire. Bullets sparked off the creature, while heavier weapons blackened and scarred it. A few scions blasted biotic shockwaves at the thing, burning away at its feet. With a few lurching steps, the creature stomped on them. All that remained were dark smears across the floor, and crumpled cybernetics still sparking and spattering hissing electric current into the floor.

" _ **YOU TOYED WITH POWERS FAR BEYOND YOUR UNDERSTANDING."**_ The devil said, laughing. " _ **AND THIS REALITY WILL FALL BECAUSE OF IT."**_

"Whoa." Shepard whispered.

"God fucking damnit!" Harry spat. "This is why portals are dangerous. Idiots open them without the proper precautions and wind up punching a hole into hell. Then all sorts of nasty things come through, and it falls to people like me to clean up after them."

"That's hell?" Jacob looked nervous.

"One of them." the wizard waved a hand. "How do we plan to kill it?"

"You're the wizard. How do these things die?" Jane felt a little out-of-her-depth.

"That depends on whether it's a devil or a demon." The wizard said, explaining hurriedly. "Demons you can just pound until they start to fall apart, but then you've got to run away when the body starts exploding. With devil like this one, you've got to be more careful. They die just the same, but you've got to finish them off with something holy, or they regenerate. A patronus _might_ work but I've got concentrated holy water as a last resort."

"You just carry holy water around with you?" Draco was almost amused. "what the hell for? It's not as if killing unholy abominations is a regular Tuesday."

"It's left over from the last time someone tried summoning things like this." Harry's voice turned sheepish. "It's been in the trunk since the early two-thousands."

"Are you sure that'll finish it?" Jane asked. "I'd hate to put it down just to watch the thing stand back up."

"If the holy water doesn't work, I can try nukes." Harry said, almost gleeful. "I've got an old one from the American arsenal, before the nuclear disarmament initiatives happened. It's a bit less than two-point-five megatons. If it won't do the trick, I'm pretty sure nothing will."

"Would prefer live specimens." Mordin said. "Perhaps use less… destructive methods?"

"Nukes are a last resort, as always." The wizard said, reassuring the salarian scientist.

"I love how you've actually got to reassure us about that." Garrus muttered. "I think it says something about your mental state.. "

"Right." Harry said, disregarding Garrus. "This thing isn't gonna be easy to kill. I suggest you all run like hell, and watch from a distance."

"Uhm. No?" Shepard replied.

"There's nothing you can do here." Harry said. "Look. It's shrugging off enough gunfire to strip a frigate's shields!"

"It's not shrugging off biotics." Shepard noted. "Jack and I could help."

"Neither of you are immortal. If it kills you, you're _dead_." Harry said, emphasizing the last word. Draco's eyes shot open. "Look," Harry said. "If you want to help, wait until it's focused on me. Then Charge in, do some damage, and get out."

"How will we know if you decide to use the nuke?" Tali said, wringing her hands.

"You'll know." Harry said, assuring the group. "I won't just set it off with all you still in the blast radius."

"I'm not leaving you here." Shepard said.

"Jane-" Harry stopped her. "I need you to take this with you." he held out a bag of marbles. Jane looked at it blankly for a few moments, before she recognized it with a flash of worry. "All of those are transfigured colonists?"

"Yeah." Harry marshalled his thoughts. "I want you to keep them safe. So they won't be destroyed if I set off the bomb."

Shepard scowled. She could see the necessity of the action, but that didn't mean she had to like it. "Stay safe." she said, turning away. The rest of the ground team followed, clearly reluctant.

Shepard spotted a long gantry running along the wall, similar to what she and her team had been travelling across up until EDI had discovered the motorized platforms. Although, Jane mused, having one or more of those on standby wouldn't be bad. "EDI?" she said. "Do you-"

"There aren't any mechanized platforms close enough for me to immediately access." EDI replied. "Although I am able to pull one from another part of the station. Would you like me me to do so?"

"Definitely, EDI." Shepard thought for a second. "...Can you read my mind?" she said, voice a mix of confusion and curiosity. She hadn't even voiced her request, and EDI had already answered it.

"I'm an incredibly advanced artificial intelligence. I could predict your question with reasonable certainty." the AI replied.

"Oh." Shepard said, mollified.

EDI spoke up, this time with thinly-veiled humor. "But yes, I can tell what you're thinking through your biotic implant. It interfaces directly with your brain, after all."

"O...kay?" Shepard said, bemused. "Just… don't fiddle around with anything too important in there, alright?"

…...

"Alright, big guy." Harry said, too quietly to be heard by anyone but himself. "It's you or me." He pulled an extra layer of dragonhide over his armor, and cast a whole assortment of charms on it and himself.

Then he reached into a pocket, and pulled out an old-fashioned rocket-propelled grenade launcher. With a grin, the wizard flipped a small switch on the weapon's handle from 'Single Shot' to 'Fully-Automatic.' "I love replenishing charms." The wizard said. The last few words in his sentence dissolved into an eager laugh. "Oh, I'd almost forgotten about this."

"We'll just try to get a little further away, then." Jane said. Harry probably hadn't meant to key his microphone, but still. If he was excited about using something, then there was probably going to be a lot more fire in his general vicinity, and a lot less stable ground.

The devil, in the meantime, was under fire from hundreds of collectors, and busy stomping them into dust. Strangely, the only injuries that lingered for long were those caused by direct biotic attacks. " _ **KNOW THIS."**_ Said the devil to the collectors. " _ **WHEN THIS REALITY BURNS, WHEN EVERY WORLD ORBITING EVERY STAR IN EVERY GALAXY LIES BARREN, BLACKENED AND DESTROYED, IT WAS YOUR CHOICE THAT BURNED THIS ETERNITY TO ASH. THAT YOUR HAND DOOMED EVERY UNCOUNTABLE SOUL TO EVER BE BORN IN THE FUTURE OF THIS PLANE OF REALITY."**_

As if his words struck a chord, the collector forces redoubled their assault. The floor shook and shivered, as a new set to engines came online.

"Shepard!" EDI said, in a tone close to panic for the unflappable AI. "Chemical boosters and mass effect fields have engaged across the station! Within ten minutes, this station will enter the black hole's event horizon!"

"God FUCKING damnit!" Jane said, voice a growl. "My life is a fucking action movie, I swear." She thought for a moment. "EDI, will we be able to escape in time on those floating platforms?"

"I believe so, Shepard." the AI responded.

Still backing away, Jane and the rest of the ground team (minus Harry) watched as a rapid stream of pinpricks of light and fire rose from Harry's position towards the towering creature. A column of smoke followed, growing larger and larger still. The first few rockets impacted the demonic figure, detonating with a series of brilliant flashes.

There was a vast rush of air, as the devil's wings beat. The yellow dust that seemed to hover listlessly across the chamber swirled, disturbed by the wind. A low roar sounded, echoing from the far end of the chamber. Despite its clear inhumanity, Jane was almost certain she could hear a note of surprise. The devil turned, lowering its head towards Harry. As it moved, the impact scars of Harry's rockets came into view. Jane's eyes widened.

" _ **DEATH'S MASTER."**_ Said the devil, staring balefully in Harry's direction. " _ **IN ALL THE WORLDS I'VE CONQUERED, I'VE NEVER MET A MORE TROUBLESOME CREATURE. ALL OF DEATH'S CHOSEN PUT UP A DECENT FIGHT. PERHAPS YOU'LL FARE BETTER THAN THE REST. BUT AS FOR ALL THEM-"**_ The devil laughed, with a rasping hiss of a voice. " _ **ALL THEIR SOULS BELONG TO ME."**_

Wherever one of the rockets had hit the devil, a crater pockmarked the crimson flesh. Blue-white fire flickered around the edges of each crater, consuming the flesh around them. "What the hell did you do?" Shepard said, keying her microphone, putting aside the notion that Harry could have somehow mastered death. Draco, expression unseen, did not. At this point, he wasn't dismissing anything Harry said out of hand. "What type of weapon is that?"

Harry's voice returned, quiet and calculating. "It's a muggle rocket launcher I stole from a small tribe of ivory-traffickers sometime in the late nineteen-nineties. One of them was a wizard with an incredible talent for rune-work. He modified it to conjure a new rocket whenever the old one was fired, and managed to dispense with recoil. Then he added a fully-automatic fire mode."

"Come again?" Jane wasn't sure she'd heard correctly.

"I'm using a fully-automatic, ammo-unlimited, anti-tank rocket launcher with cold iron pellets, rock salt, depleted uranium, and silver filings dipped in garlic mixed into the payload." Harry's voice seemed oddly calm. "This thing can kill anything, but it tends to leave a bit of a mark. It's fueled by ambient magic, and takes on a bit of the characteristics of the magic it's using. That means I've got to continuously cleanse the violent, tainted magic trying to disrupt it, while keeping my head in a crowded battlefield."

"By all means, keep fighting. You don't have to explain everything to me in the middle of all this." Jane said. Then she sighed, and looked back at the monstrous figure towering over the battlefield. "Be careful, Harry."

"Always am." the wizard said. He sounded distracted, and rightfully so- he had a hundred-fifty meter devil bearing down on him. As he spoke, the devil beat its wings once more, and swung the blazing whip around its wrist. It seemed to lengthen midair, and sent up a blast of flames when it struck the ground.

Jane winced, fearing the worst. Then another barrage of rockets rose into the air, and she relaxed.

"What do we do?" Garrus said, fondling the butt of his rifle. He didn't want to leave Harry to fight that… abomination any more than she did.

"There's not too much we can do." She thought for a moment. "We'll try to hit it from somewhere safe. We've got to be careful, since that thing could kill all of us without really trying if it gets close." Jane's eyes lit up as her face alighted on Garrus's gun. "Garrus, try and hit the creature's weak points. Kneecaps, eyes, anything." Jane mentally congratulated herself for buying the turian a Widow Anti-Materiel Rifle. "Jack, Jacob, Miranda, we're going to provide biotic support. Fire off anything we can detonate, and we'll do some serious damage."

The group arrayed themselves across their position, finding cover wherever possible. On Jane's command, they opened fire.

Shepard's singularity led the opening salvo, flying ponderously towards the devil. It struck the creature's outstretched arm, and expanded into a glowing sphere of blue energy, sweeping towards the iconic black point in the center of the biotic field, the 'singularity'. White-gold light shot through the sphere like through Jane's normal biotic attacks, but this time it anchored itself to the devil. The creature let out a strange yelp of pain and surprise, and stared at its forearm, eyes opening wide.

Garrus took the opportunity to put a bullet through one of the devil's four eyes, as the rest of the button barrage impacted.

A widow Anti-Materiel Rifle is less of a sniper rifle, and more of an undersized main cannon for ground-assault heavy armored vehicles. Common doctrine for the weapon states that the weapon is -under no circumstances- to be fired at any point within a meter of a VIP. The shockwave-explosion caused by the shot's impact, -capable of pulverizing organs and causing life-threatening damage- could endanger a VIP even more than possible capture or melee combat. Known across the galaxy as one of the most effective anti-tank weapons in existence, The M-98 Widow is heavily regulated. Production is illegal outside of the most advanced and scrupulous weapons-companies in Council Space. Private ownership of the weapon is forbidden by a number of arms treaties, and heavy tariffs and taxes are levied against any military whose snipers are permitted to use such a weapon.

To say the devil's eye was liquified was an understatement. In fact, a small portion of the back of the creature's skull was blasted apart, as the shot distributed its energy throughout the interior of the creature's cranium. Black liquid dribbled down the creature's back, as it reeled in shock.

Then it roared. Not a shocked grunt, or a yelp of surprise, but a true shuddering expression of fury. The entire chamber shook. Dust and rock crumbled from the ceiling as the devil's wings _ignited._ Flame streamed from the creature's batlike wings, licking against the chamber's chitinous vaulted roof. Cloven hooves crashed into the floor, hundreds of feet apart as the creature took long, loping steps towards Garrus and the ground team.

"Ah, hell. It's moving too much. I can't get another shot." Garrus said, as he watched the devil eat the distance between them. "And I think we pissed it off."

"No shit!" Jane said, launching another wave of biotic artillery. The devil let out an ear-piercing screech, and picked up its pace.

"What the fuck!" Harry's voice called out. "What did you-!" The source of the rocket barrage rose from the floor, as Harry flew around the devil, damaging and harassing it as much as he could. The devil almost stumbled, as Harry's rockets crashed into the small of its back.

"Garrus put a shot from his Widow rifle through its eye." Shepard said, barely hiding a note of pride. She watched the thing take another step. Jane stared upward, finally understanding how incredibly massive the devil was. "You're one ugly motherfucker, aren't you…" she said. Then it took another step, and fixed its eyes on her.

"Jane!" Harry's voice said over the radio. A tangible note of fear played through his words. "I've lost the devil's attention. It's coming after you!"

The devil roared again, and beat its wings, gliding clumsily from the top of the massive staircase.

"Go, go!" Shepard grabbed the two lightest members of her team- Mordin and Tali- and biotic charged into thin air. She traveled across the chamber in a matter of moments, landing half a mile away in just a few seconds.

When she arrived, she found Draco waiting for her, though he'd changed, since she'd last seen him. His clothing was disheveled. Smoke curled off his shoulders. "Apparating here is a very bad idea." He announced, eyes wide, as EDI's infiltration platform clambered from one of his expanded pockets. An absent wave of his wand conjured a small chair, which Draco collapsed into with an exhausted sigh.

Shepard didn't feel the need to tell Draco that his chair was patchy, threadbare, and twitching, all signs of a hurried conjuration, or one done while under too much stress.

Jack, watching in surprise, charged as well a moment later, grabbing Garrus by the back of his armor, and Liara around her waist. The asari blushed, but held on tight. Miranda blinked in surprise, before she followed, slinging Jacob over a shoulder. Shepard dropped her passengers on the other side, and turned around. She watched as the devil reached her former position, and stepped down into the chamber's base from the gantry they'd sheltered on. Rapid-fire pinpricks of light impacted all across the creature's hide, blackening and burning wherever they hit. Shepard charged back across the chamber, fearing the worst. In a burst of blue, she thundered into the wall she'd hunkered down behind, just a moment or two ago. Just a few feet away, a basketball-court sized hoofprint had crushed most of the surrounding area flat.

"Jane!" Kasumi said, decloaking as she arrived. "Thought you'd leave me alone over here for a second."

"Never." Shepard replied, a little out of breath. She held out a hand. Kasumi took it, and held on for dear life as Jane charged across the room once more.

"Harry?" said Jane, keying her microphone. Cautiously, as she knew he was focusing on the rolling tumult of combat. "What's the status on that…thing?"

"It's dying." Harry said. Jane watched as the devil backhanded a small glowing figure buzzing about its head hard enough to embed the figure into the side of the chamber. Cracks spread across the wall upon his impact. There was a flash of blue, as Harry used a biotic charge to escape the devil's next attack. Clouds of flame and choking brimstone smoke poured from every slice and crater in the creature's skin. The vast cloud of yellowed, ancient dust billowed through the room like a mushroom cloud in a wind-tunnel.

"You alright?" Jane said, alarmed. Human bodies weren't meant to take that sorry of punishment.

"Peachy." Said the wizard, with a low growl and a pained grunt. "The devil's dead. It just doesn't know it yet."

"it's banged up, but it looks pretty alive to me." Said Jane, watching the devil swat at Harry, trying to knock him from the air again. "And it looks pissed off."

"That way it won't notice the transfiguration wearing off on the nuke inside its stomach." Harry grunted, taking a glancing blow from the devil's forearm. "But the spell won't wear off for another three minutes. That's how long you've got to get out of here."

"I'm not leaving you to fight this alone." Jane said, clenching her fists.

"It's the only way." Harry said. "I've got to keep it distracted, or it'll notice the magic unraveling in its gut. I'll try to get out before the bomb goes off, but if I can't, I'll be back as soon as I can."

Jane took one last glance towards Harry, the glowing speck fighting a creature taller than most skyscrapers. "Be careful." she said, voice almost a mumble.

"Always, Jane." the wizard said. "Now go! You've got less than two-and-a-half minutes."

Jane ran, followed by the rest of her team. "Shepard, I've commandeered a floating platform. I'm placing a waypoint on your HUD. Get there." Said EDI. The AI sounded tense, worried and full of anxiety. A blinking timer counting down appeared by Jane's vitals, projected onto the inside of her helmet.

Jack hit the next door with a massive blast of biotic energy, punching it clean off with a biotic charge. In the very next room, surrounding a glowing blue sphere, the red-robed Auror team sat or lay down, nearly insensate. One or two rocked back and forth, hands at their temples and groaning in pain. "That's just like the sphere in the Auditorium." Said Jack, immediately suspicious.

"The 'focus' thing that Harry was talking about?" Jane was still skeptical, to some degree. She'd been so inured to the wonders of modern technology that even Harry's magic had her looking for the mass effect fields sometimes, and trying to puzzle out how a new iteration of omni-tools could be so advanced.

"Harry' called that a focus? For a ritual?" Draco searched his memory, staring suddenly at the orb as if it were much more than a glowing sphere. He raised his wand, and cast a reducto hex. The sphere shattered, blasting strange dust around the room that evaporated into thin air as soon as it hit the ground. "Ectoplasm." Dracu murmured. His eyes widened almost unnoticeably. The four Aurors were blasted backwards a few feet, away from where the sphere had sat. "Get up!" the wizard yelled. "This whole station will be vaporized in minutes!"

The Aurors stood, groggily staring at their surroundings. "Where are we?" one asked, stumbling over her own feet.

"Damnit! We've got no time for this!" Draco cursed. " _Stupefy, stupefy, stupefy, stupefy_." the wizard cast. Red light struck each Auror in the forehead, and they slumped, one-after-the-other, to the ground in a boneless heap. " _Accio!_ " Draco added, and one of the Auror's brooms shot into his palm. He dropped it to the ground, as his hand went to his waist. Grasping a bag from off of his belt, Draco stuck his wand inside, and muttered, " _Capacious Extremis._ " The ground team looked on, confused. "Get in, all of you." the wizard held out the bag, as its mouth expanded large enough to fit a small car. "I'll fly us out." he pointed to the broom. "That's an Auriel Mark three. Top speed two-fifty miles per hour. Much faster than whatever floating platform thing you were planning to use." Then " _Accio!_ " again, and the unconscious Aurors flew into the pouch.

Tali led the group into the expanded mokeskin bag, accustomed all her life to climbing into tight spaces. On Shepard's HUD, the timer ticked downwards. "Not you." Draco said, stopping Shepard from entering the bag. "I need you to navigate. Make sure your ship doesn't shoot me down."

"Got it." Shepard said, thankful for EDI's exit route overlaid on her visor. Draco kicked off, and Shepard experienced flight without the influence of biotic fields once more.

….

"forty seconds, Shepard." Harry said. His eyes flickered once more to the timer superimposed over his visor, steadily ticking down. With a twist, he launched himself in upwards, just barely avoiding a blow from the devil's massive forearm. All he had to do was survive, Harry told himself. As soon as the nuke went off, everything would be engulfed in a flash of heat and light, and he'd wake up a day later.

"Harry!" Jane called. In the back of his mind, the wizard knew that she'd said his name more than once before he'd acknowledged her. "The station's got all sorts of engines attached to it that we couldn't see from the outside. It's on a full burn towards the black hole. EDI estimates ten minutes until it hits the event horizon, so get as far as you can once the nuke goes off."

"Got it." Harry said. His eyes widened, as he watched the devil freeze. Its three remaining eyes widened, and the creature turned, running back towards the portal.

Flickering ominously, the hellscape the devil had come from slowly darkened and disappeared. Black mist poured from the portal, as it was pulled violently through the space between dimensions. The devil ran forwards, furious. Harry unloaded into it. "Get back here!" he called out, voice amplified by a sonorous charm. "You're not escaping that easily."

" _ **A GREATER POWER COMES, AND I AM WEAKENED. HOLD YOUR FIRE- THE OLD ONE COMES. LEVIATHAN WAKES."**_ said the devil. A note of worry entered its tone. The creature's voice echoed from the chamber's distant walls, like the rumbling of malicious thunder.

Wordlessly, Harry shot a _Confringo_ at the floor beneath one of the devil's legs, blasting away its footing mid-run. The creature stumbled, sliding hundreds of feet along the floor. House-sized chunks of shattered stone, chitin, and steel were torn from the floor as the creature scrambled for purchase. " _Glisseo._ " Harry cast. For almost a kilometer in all directions, the floor writhed and transfigured itself into a smooth, glassy surface. Another spell blasted specks of grease into the air, and all across the now smooth floors. The devil slipped and slid, finding no purchase. Even with its wings, flapping uselessly, it could make no headway. The thin membranes had burnt away easily under Harry's barrage of rockets, and gaping holes marred each expanse of stretched skin. One of the devil's legs seemed to hang limp. A deep crater marred what could have been some strange sort of tendon as wide as a subway tunnel running down its leg.

At the far end of the chamber, something flickered. A plane of infinite grey revealed itself through the shrinking borders of the massive gleaming portal. The foremost tentacles of a Leviathan emerged- almost identical to those of the Leviathans Harry had slain on 2181 Despoina.

" _ **JOIN ME! YOU ARE POWERFUL, AND I FIGHT THOSE THAT TOOK YOUR MORTAL FROM YOU!**_ " Said the devil to Harry, cloven hooves skittering across the floor. " _ **THE CELESTIALS INTERFERED TO END HER. THEY DO NOT DESERVE YOUR SUPPORT! WITH THEIR BETRAYAL, THEY HAVE SHOWN THEIR TRUE COLORS. YOUR ENEMIES SEEK EVEN NOW TO DESTROY YOU, AND ALL YOU HOLD DEAR. SWEAR YOURSELF TO ME, AND TOGETHER WE WILL DRIVE THEM BACK. TOGETHER, WE SHALL RULE THE STARS!"**_ Harry was surprised at how quickly a world-conquering horror from another dimension could be reduced to megalomania, especially when at a disadvantage.

Wordlessly, the wizard redoubled his attack. Meter-thick layers of mottled red skin sloughed off under the onslaught of rockets and curses, revealing dripping black tissue beneath the all-consuming blue flames. One shattered wing fell to the ground, attached only by a tendon to the devil's shoulders. Half the fingers on one of the devil's hands had burnt off at some point, hit by lucky rockets aimed at knuckles and joints. A spike of shattered bone as thick as a small shuttle poked out from the creature's mutilated hand.

Harry glanced back towards the portal at the far end of the room, and panicked. The Leviathan, much faster than anticipated, had emerged from the portal and come flying full-speed towards the crippled titan on the chamber's floor. It shook, writhing as if in pain. It didn't have any eezo coursing through its system, Harry recalled. So it was in pain -terrible, all-consuming agony.

Then, from the corner of his vision, the demon _moved_. Its limp disappeared - _it must have been faking_ \- as it struck lightning-fast with its intact hand. Even forewarned and flying, Harry knew he couldn't avoid the attack- he tried to apparate, crashing violently into some eldritch approximation of anti-apparation wards that dumped him right where he'd started. Just barely mastering his instinct to take a portkey, he looked up, and watched the devil's house-sized hand coming towards him at an entirely uncomfortable speed. As if in slow motion, the hand struck him with all the force of an oncoming dreadnought. For a half-second, everything went black, and Harry found himself almost entirely embedded in a wall. Spiderweb cracks from his impact reached as far up as the ceiling, two hundred feet above. Thankfully, his head poked out of the rubble, giving him a view of the devil smashing its hooves into the smooth, slippery floor, and making its own hand and footholds. The Leviathan screamed forwards, blasting psychic agony across every spectrum of magic Harry could feel. He spasmed, as his vision greyed out. He came to a moment later, missing only a few seconds according to his mission clock. Blood dribbled down his chin.

In the corner of his HUD, the timer on the nuke's transfiguration ticked from one to zero. Harry let out a strangled laugh, as the taste of copper filled his mouth. He waved his wand, feeling the transfiguration reverse. One hand gripped an expanded bottle of holy water, holding thousands of gallons of the liquid. A good banishing charm stuck it in the back of the creature's throat. The devil, now standing, froze. Its eyes widened.

Harry hit the detonator, and everything went white.

….

Jane watched, teary-eyed, as the Collector Base exploded into a fine mist. Then, as what remained of the base followed its trajectory through the accretion disk and into the black hole.

…...

" **YOU'RE BACK."**

"Hey, Death."


	19. The Beginning of the End

" **YOU'RE BACK."**

"Hey, Death." Harry sat up. Far above him, the skylights of King's Cross station beamed down, showing brilliant blue skies above. Harry wondered what exactly was outside this construct, this limbo. It looked and sounded like King's Cross station, yet Harry had wandered for hours the third time he'd died. Every few hundred steps, he'd find himself staring back up at the same skylights, the same benches, and the same train. It was always the same shade of red, with the same lettering on the side. The Hogwarts Express. Every time he died, Harry spared it a long, wistful glance. He knew, of course, that he'd never take that train. He could still daydream, though.

" **YOUR FORESIGHT IS IMPECCABLE."** The hooded figure on the bench nodded, speaking in the same familiar tone of echoing shadows and crushed cobwebs.

"What?" Harry blinked. Normally, Death just sent him back to the land of the living.

" **SHEPARD'S PORTKEY- THE NECKLACE YOU GAVE TO HER. THE DOG-TAG."**

"What about it?" The wizard was confused. He hoped desperately that Jane hadn't tried to use it too close to the black hole.

" **SHE TAKES AFTER YOU, I SUPPOSE. ALWAYS TURNING FATE ON IT'S HEAD."**

"I know." Harry replied, off-kilter. "That's what I saw in her. What I see in her." Then, quieter, "She reminds me of myself."

" **UNTIL SHE SET HERSELF ON HER CURRENT COURSE, THE GALAXY HAD A DARKER FATE. SHE IS ABOUT TO PERSONALLY CHANGE THE OUTCOME OF THE HARVEST."**

"...Wait. What?"

" **GOOD LUCK IN THE LAND OF THE LIVING, HARRY POTTER. DO KEEP IN TOUCH."**

Harry's eyes widened. "No, wait-" he managed, before a yawning black void engulfed him.

The wizard's eyes flickered open. He stared unseeing at the bulkhead for a few moments. Sitting up with a gasp, he opened his omni-tool, intent on sending some sort of reassuring message to Jane.

It was not to be. The moment he activated the device, he was flooded by notifications. Most prominent, flashing red, was the label, " _Reaper Incursion Imminent._ '

"Bloody hell." the wizard murmured, frozen. The world spun, and Harry couldn't help but wonder when his heartbeat had gotten so loud it drowned out all else. Pulling himself away from the fear and worry paralyzing his limbs, Harry reached once more for his omni-tool. One by one, he dealt rapidly with the rest of his notifications. Then, with shaking fingers, he tapped the urgent warning, and read its contents. A moment later, he looked up, with a thousand-yard stare. "All fleets, ready weapons, shields, and engines. We're going hunting."

Out in the cold emptiness of space, thousands upon thousands of lights flickered on as a military like no other began to mobilize.

…...

 **Six Months Earlier**

…...

"Shepard." Liara said. "I know this isn't the best time, but I got a message I think you should know about."

"What is it?" Jane beckoned the asari into her quarters. Liara noticed dark circles under her commander's eyes, and Shepard's armor -still covered with battle-damage from the collector base, even a day later- piled haphazardly on the floor. The blankets on the bed were snarled up, twisted every which way. "Is it about the Collector Base?"

"No." Liara said, wringing her hands. "It's a pre-recorded message from Harry."

Jane's eyes lit up. "What did it say?" she said, interest writ large across her features.

"Harry sent us the Shadow Broker's network." Liara said, holding out her omni-tool.

"His entire network? Everything?" Jane's eyes widened. "Why?"

Liara lifted her omni-tool, reading off of the digital script. "He wrote that he wants us to keep the galaxy running. Make sure nobody starts any wars, keep the galactic stock market stable. And that he trusts you and I with all of this. The same message should go out to you as well, but he didn't know if it would get past the filters you'd imposed. The network unlocks once we both have access."

"Send me access?" Shepard said, holding out her omni-tool. "I haven't gotten it. Besides, two heads are better than one."

Liara tapped her omni-tool against Jane's and both devices beeped. Then a voice played from both omni-tools, cheerful and upbeat. "Hello! I'm Dobby. I'm a highly intelligent VI programmed for data summary and analysis as well as naval and electronic warfare. I'll guide you through the information network, as well as navigate to any files you may want to examine. It's my job to keep everything running smoothly, and take the reins when both of you are busy. I see that Harry initiated a transfer protocol. As per his original request, I'll bring up a few reports of operations Harry's been personally involved with."

"Uh. Understood?" Jane said, more a question than a statement.

"Wonderful. Feel free to ask any questions you may have." The VI said. Then Jane's omni-tool beeped, and entries began to flow onto her screen. Most of them appeared to be screenshots, digital 'clippings' of each article, taken from news reports.

The first message was accompanied by a high-definition still-frame of a glowing storage device. "It was a tiny thing;" the message read, "A bit of unsecured unencrypted data drifting as part of a Prothean wreck. However, it has provided a significant extension to the range of ship sensor systems and greatly improved local mapping of the Hades Nexus cluster."

Liara examined the next few emails- reports? Briefings?

"It was most likely ignorance or accident, but a team of batarian explorers inadvertently destroyed a hanar holy site of Prothean remains via an unplanned evacuation of their sewage system. Factions across the galaxy are up in arms at this act of disrespect, and a number of trade relations have been ruined. The career of a certain Muakla Bugyir is almost certainly at an end."

Jane and Liara watched in silence as their omni-tools steadily revealed more and more. Readouts scrolled down their displays, glowing orange and promising a depth of information that was nothing short of formidable.

"There's nothing quite like a friendly popular press. Thanks to a few wily development decisions, Harold Masir, the primary alias of a wealthy media baron, has been able to sell feel-good messages to populations across the galaxy. Citadel Council popularity has skyrocketed, treasuries are profiting, and Mister Masir has purchased an entire constellation."

"Recent projections of the trajectory of the moon Litae have revealed that the celestial body is no longer on a crash-course for the surface of Aite, the garden world it orbits. "It's impossible," said famed salarian astrophysicist Dells Curaie in a press conference last week. "If I hadn't checked the results myself, I'd be certain that there'd been a mixup."

"In the lore of the Migrant Fleet, it was known as the Bel Riannoh, the last and largest dreadnought made before the Geth Uprising. Supposedly, it was separated from its support fleets, and cursed to wander the cosmos as it searched for lost survivors of the Morning War. The ship itself has been discovered intact, and its crew - before their death or disappearance, for the ship is empty - apparently reworked it with armor of incredible thickness and durability, as well as weapons that rival the greatest guns of modern times. It is now the flagship of the quarian armada, and its gleaming armor and armaments inspire the entire quarian population to greater heights of ingenuity and technological advancement. At four kilometers long, it is clearly the largest dreadnought ever made by any race known to the council, larger even than Sovereign. Scientists and ship-designers across the galaxy are in an uproar. Insights from this craft could lend a new lens upon which to examine the largest ships in the galaxy- the so-called 'Discretionary Fleet.' Council records from before the Morning War show the Bel Riannoh's length to be mere meters shorter than the Destiny Ascension- despite the fact that the Bel Riannoh is more than two kilometers longer, and more than three times as massive. Further analysis shows evidence of a cover-up done by Asari or Salarian intelligence, perhaps to minimize quarian influence on the galaxy as a whole. Some experts have already suggested that the cover-up was an effort to reduce public will to aid the quarians. Only time will tell.

Scientific communities are in uproar, as the atmosphere of Tuchanka, the Krogan home planet, has been rapidly improving as of late. New studies have shown that the planet's ozone layer is now almost fully intact, and that the planet's famous dust storms and tornadoes should soon be a thing of the past. As well as atmospheric improvements, the planet's temperature has been steadily increasing. Many plants are now able to grow comfortably along the planet's equator, and a green belt is steadily expanding around the planet's middle. "Seems like magic, for all we know," said Urdnot Grunt, a member of Aralakh Company- Krogan Special Forces. Due to unconventional interactions with Krogan culture, it's not uncommon for a clan's spokesman to be one of the most martially proficient members of the clan. Urdnot Grunt speaks for clan Urdnot, the current leading Krogan faction. Urdnot is unique in trying to unite all krogan on the planet under a banner of growth and unity. While it is unfortunate that we could not receive an interview with Urdnot Wrex, we're glad both that we were offered an interview at all, and that none of our employees were dismembered during the trip.

In possibly related news, the Salarian STG's galactic terrorism alert level has jumped up three ratings. Civilians outside or on the edge of Council Space are advised to buy high-caliber personal defense weapons, harden supply-lines, keep up regular scheduled contact with someone offworld, and purchase specialized emergency beacons and alert systems.

Kechlu Bandwidth, a premium bandwidth-resale corporation, has expanded into weapons-manufacturing, ultra-fine ballistics research, and shipbuilding. Barely skirting the edges of Council anti-monopoly laws, the corporation is raising eyebrows across the galaxy. Only thirty-three years old, it's placed forty-sixth on the Illium three-hundred list, featuring the top three-hundred most promising corporations across the galaxy. Still privately traded, and highly secretive, the company is under heavy scrutiny from all corners of the galactic market.

Economists everywhere are scratching their heads, as the Credit -the primary currency of all Council races- has deflated by three percent between 2200 and 800 hours last night before apparently stabilizing early this morning. The First Bank of Irune has released a statement that they believe such a brief wave of deflation could actually _help_ the galactic economy, though they worry that this might not be a brief trend. Still, the Credit has been stable for centuries now, so this sudden wobble has sent shockwaves through the galactic economy. The First Irune has stated that more than twelve million businesses have chosen to run an audit on their finances, in order to make sure they're still running at a profitable level. And, in the interest of galactic financial security, Irune has funded a think-tank padded with all the best economic minds in the galaxy to find the source of the issue.

Noveria Now's annual "50 CEOs Not to Mess With" issue hits the net today. The e-mag's number one this year is Eldfell-Ashland Energy exec Jonah Ashland, beating second-place Harold Masir of the enigmatic Kechlu Broadband corporation and third-placer Ganar Yulaz of the Blood Pack mercenary company. Says the mag: "Masir can practically freeze the extranet access and investments of entire planets, but Ashland can set the galactic price of helium-3. Which is more likely to pinch you, your family, your business, and your government?" Coming in last was newbie Marcus D'Angelo of Spyte Media, whose spat with Prime Minister Amul Shastri of Earth led to a deluge of mocking viral videos until Shastri cried uncle. "We'll never look at a Hindu cow the same way again," concludes the "Now" team, "and fortunately for the cows, neither will Shastri".

Thirteen Mass Relays were discovered missing today. There's no word on possible culprits- after all, most Relays are just over nineteen kilometers long. Curiously, every missing relay was a dead end, of sorts- the Citadel Archives made a press release less than an hour ago, in which the organization's chair explained -he himself visibly just as curious as any audience member- that each relay led nowhere, or, more accurately, nowhere useful. Empty systems, for the most part. Lonely stars with barren husks of planets orbiting them. It's theorized that the corresponding end of each relay may have disappeared as well, though there's no way to gather conclusive proof. There is a clear pattern to the disappearances, though. Each relay led outwards, towards the far edges of the galaxy. Most were also in strategically interesting locations, like incredibly dense asteroid belts, or a nebula reminiscent of the widow nebula in which the Citadel resides. Sensor traffic was shown to be heavily distorted within both nebulae. Another Relay was taken from just outside the Mactare System, shrouded by a heavy-ion cloud. Whisperings from Turian Command say that the relay itself was supposedly a military secret, though no solid evidence exists from that quarter. Dire news indeed. More on this story will follow as we discover it.

The end is nigh! Doomsayers and survivalists across the galaxy have had a recent upswell in numbers. Millions of bunkers are being constructed as we speak, and the price of long-term rations has skyrocketed. Whether there's an actual apocalypse coming or not, protective facilities and evacuation points are rarely frowned on by administrators or planetary governors.

"There are citizen associations whose political and moral agendas can range from quaint to mentally imbalanced. Fortunately, this group of pro-government turian volunteers, in tandem with their military, have managed to retrofit and pull together scrapped, retired, damaged, and discovered ships in great enough quantities to create a viable fleet."

"There's more for you to review later, if you'd like?" The VI said. Both Shepard and Liara nodded, wordlessly heading back to their respective sleeping quarters.

…

"So you're telling me we may have lost a major asset in the fight against the Reapers." Hackett said. The old admiral's brows had turned themselves downwards, into the beginnings of a scowl.

"That's correct, Sir." Shepard said, unhappy. "I haven't gotten any news of his return. With the reapers closing in, we've got to consider that he may not… come back in time to provide any assistance."

"Damn." Hackett muttered. "I'll call you back in a week's time." he seemed more fragile, more feeble. His face more gaunt, the bags under his eyes perhaps slightly darker. "There are precautions to be taken, plans to be made…Contingencies in place for the continuity of human civilization." He trailed off. "I'm authorizing a military expedition to scour the Mars Archives for additional information. I'm putting the Alliance on a war footing. Recruiting rates should be skyrocketing within the next month or two. Six new Dreadnoughts and support fleets have been commissioned, with more on the way. The Alliance Financiers Councilors are furious- one of them even had a heart attack after receiving the briefing." A grim smile flitted across his face. "Find me anything you can. The fate of the galaxy is in our hands. Hackett out."

…...

"Jane!" Liara's voice called out over the intercom as soon as Shepard stepped into the Normandy's airlock. "There's something going on. Dobby -the VI- revealed something half an hour ago. Something big-"

"Short and sweet, T'soni." Jane said, stepping into the lift. Liara took a few moments to formulate her thoughts as the lift shot upwards towards Shepard's quarters. Jane stepped through the doorway, eyes jumping instantly to her office-space. A pair of glowing terminals sat open on her desk. One screen showed a galactic map, and scrolling screens of information. The other showed Liara's face, lips pursed in concentration.

"Shepard!" the asari's expression lifted, suddenly relieved. "There you are. So there's apparently a situation on Aratoht-" the galactic map zoomed in on a small planet on the outer fringes of batarian space, and on the extreme edge of the galaxy. "-And according to Harry's documentation, there are a few 'contingency plans' he put in place there. I'm almost certain that this is one. The whole planet's had thirteen simultaneous failures in every single one of the biodome cities across the planet, so... You know the planet, I think. It pops up in the Alliance standard dossiers from Intelligence every few weeks."

"I'm familiar with it." Shepard said, confirming Liara's assumption. "Thin atmosphere, not enough breathable oxygen. Batarians have been trying to terraform it. They haven't had much success, if I recall correctly."

"Evacuation began yesterday morning." Liara said, in the tone of somebody breaking worrying news. "I'd estimate that around ninety percent of the batarian population on Aratoht escaped before the relay went dark. Now we know what happened next, but that's only because Harry scheduled one of his special observation drones-"

"The ones with the quantum-entangled-communicators?"

"-yes, those. According to the observation point's records, it was activated barely a week ago by an automated protocol. Not five days later, it picked up footage of a pair of reapers arriving in-system." Liara let that hang in the air for a minute.

"Alright." Shepard leaned back in her chair, suddenly appearing more haggard. "What's the damage?"

"Then the relay _disappeared_." Liara continued, heedless. "Powered down, and flickered out of existence. It's gone."

"Gone?" Shepard frowned, thoughts focused on far-off places. "What about the Reapers?"

"Only those two arrived, but they've landed on the planet." The asari sighed, fiddling with a bracelet. "I estimate that less than ten thousand batarians survived planetside beyond the first two days after the evacuation. They're probably all indoctrinated, now. And the Bahak system is more than a year away, maybe three months on Harry's ships. Without the relays, I don't think there's a single thing we can do."

"What about the footage?" Jane mused, eyes distant. "Of the Reapers. How's the satellite's image quality? Can we send this to the Council as some form of positive proof of the Reapers' existence?"

"...We can try."

…...

" _The Citadel Council made headlines with a series of new policies they've unveiled at a press release just this morning. In the span of a few months, it is estimated that galactic production of construction-grade military alloy should almost triple due to heavy subsidies from the Council's treasury. It cannot be understated how unexpected this move was- the last time measures like this were considered, the galaxy was still in shock after sixteen deliberate simultaneous asteroid impacts on civilized worlds sparked the beginning of the Krogan Rebellions._

 _That's not the full scope of today's changes. New subsidies and tax cuts in the mining industry indicate that Element Zero and other advanced materials may soon be an even more highly valued commodity._

 _Somewhere in an undisclosed location in Council Space, construction has begun on frames for thirty-two Dreadnought-capable shipyards. Almost two hundred frames for smaller craft have been constructed already, and according to new records, twenty-four hulls have already been laid out._

 _More worrying still were Councilor Sparatus' closing words._

" _-The rest of the Council, as well as Primarch Fedorian, are in agreement with me. As much as I wish to deny it, there is … some evidence now that a clear and present threat to galactic safety and stability may exist. We must build up our economies, build up our militaries. Otherwise we may stand no chance of victory. If we are wrong, and there is nothing to fear, we will have wasted nothing more than credits. If we are right… Spirits help us all."_

 _Bombarded by questions from every single member of the Citadel Press Corps, Sparatus refused to explain further, stating only, "I've said what needs to be said. This is the only option I see that has a hope of success."_

 _Certainly troubling times indeed. Emily Wong, Citadel Newsnet."_

…

"What's that?" a voice said, echoing from the far wall and vaulted ceiling.

"What, the cache?" said another voice. A pair of humans in long lab-coats stepped forwards, towards a series of glowing raised obelisks. "It's larger than expected, but-"

"No, what's in it? These look like design specifications." One of the technicians scratched his head, as he approached a terminal hooked into the network of obelisks. Alien writing scrawled across the screen, accompanied by glowing models of a long object with a bulbous point at one end. "Recognize anything?"

"Not in the slightest. I think that's good."

"Well, what are we hoping to find? You know I slept through the briefing."

"We've got no clue what we're looking for. Alliance brass got jumpy, and wants some trump card or something." The man shivered, rubbing his hands together in the cold of the main chamber. Mars's winter chill penetrated deep into the ground, here. Ever since the miraculously-terraformed planet was colonized, it had become known for frozen winters and gorgeous summers. Now, though, the winter season was well underway.

"So the brass put up a fuss, and now we're here." the technician gestured grandly around him. "The Prothean Archives, hallmark of humanity's success!" He turned back to his partner. "And it's empty."

"Not at all. It's full of data, but all that's left is encrypted. We can't just cherry-pick data based off of what's easiest to understand like we did just before the first contact war."

The other man scowled. "Yeah, well it's not like we're gonna have another tech revolution."

"You don't know that."Came the reply, with no real heat. "I admit, it can get boring. Watching progress bars tick up has never been a specialty of mine. And this is, of course, one of the lower levels of encryption. We think."

Something flickered. Both men stared more closely at the nearest display.

"Whatever it is, that looks… impressive." said the other technician. "I don't know if that's a gun, or a ship-"

"Whatever it is, I think we've just found something to hand over to Alliance Intel."

…

"Hi, mom." Shepard said, tentative. She had no idea what she was doing. It had been a spur-of-the-moment thing. One moment, she'd been laying back in bed, staring sleeplessly into the bulkhead above her. The next, she'd whipped out her omni-tool, and dialed her mother's number halfway on instinct. The line beeped. " _I'm sorry, I can't take your call right now. Please leave a message."_ and an automated recording began to play. Shepard ignored it, waiting for the beep. "Hey, Mom. This is Jane." she said, as soon as the automated voice cut out. With a burst of nervous energy, she stood, shifting her weight rapidly from one foot to the other. Absently, she stilled her fingers, only for one of her feet to begin beating a rhythm into the floor. "I'm out of active combat, and I couldn't sleep. So I figured I'd call. I know you got my email a few months after my… death, I guess. You had some time to mourn, and then-" Shepard couldn't tell why her vision was blurry. "I'm sorry, mom. The whole thing sounds so… so… crazy. It's probably all classified to hell, too, though it's not as if my dossier didn't already read like an adrenaline junkie's wet dream, even after removing all the secret stuff. I just haven't gotten the paperwork yet. Bloody bureaucratic _nightmare_ , the Council is. Still, I've requested some personal leave. Sparatus has already accepted, included a 'vacation budget' with seven zeroes, and implied that I don't have to come back to active duty at all. I think he knows I've got connections he doesn't, things that I can do that he can't as a councilor. I'm just babbling, at this point." hot, nervous emotion made her tongue swell, made her inarticulate. "When can we meet up? I figure meeting in the flesh might be… Good for the both of us." Jane hung her head. "Love you, mom."

*click*

Jane collapsed back into bed, drilling holes with her eyes into the bulkhead above her.

 **Time Passes.**

" _Just last night, in the later hours of September nineteenth, the Batarian Hegemony pulled back all their fleets from the borders of human space. Alliance Intelligence has released a controversial statement implicating the Reapers- an ancient machine-race trying to wipe out galactic civilization. The batarians, however, have vehemently denied any allegations that they're under attack in any way._

" _This is not normal; the Batarian Hegemony does not retreat." said one analyst, voice distorted to protect his identity. "They execute deserters on the spot, and give out court-martials for backing away from a fight. Something is seriously wrong."_

….

 _FLOOD OF BATARIAN TRAFFIC BRINGS RUMORS OF WAR – ALLIANCE NEWS NETWORK_

* * *

 _From: Alliance News Network Information Partners_

 _September 21, 2186_

 _Flood of batarian traffic brings rumors of war_

 _By Shirin Kazemi_

 _UTOPIA SYSTEM – A massive influx of batarian ships is raising tensions in the Exodus Cluster, putting Alliance forces on high alert. According to Alliance officials, the ships came from the batarian-held Harsa relay with minimal warning, some barreling right through. The Alliance reportedly fired on some of the ships with the intent to disable them._

" _It's a miracle any of them are still alive," one human frigate captain said. According to the batarians, they are neither invaders nor defectors, but refugees. They claim a hostile species has attacked the Hegemony's fleet, bombarding Khar'shan and other batarian planets._

 _With the Harsa comm buoy system crippled, communication is sporadic at best between far-flung batarians and their government on Khar'shan. Some refugees claim the attackers were Council. Others blame the geth or even the rachni. All report that the enemy, in whatever form, is blockading the relay, destroying most spacecraft trying to make it through. The refugees are not solely civilians. Hegemony Commander, Eruz Mathat, who is under guard while his cruiser is inspected, was blunt in his assessment of the situation. "I never thought I would say this to the human navy," he said, "but we need you."_

….

" _Breaking news! Late last night, September twenty-first, Batarian refugees began been streaming into Alliance Space. Events have taken a darker turn, as the refugee count is astronomical. A full count has not been taken, but it's estimated that the number of refugees is well over three hundred thousand. More worrying are the scattered, disjointed reports coming from the refugees of massive black ships that tore through the Hegemony's fleets, and even now hold Khar'shan under siege. Can this possibly be true? We're working to figure that out. More at twelve. Emily Wong, Citadel Newsnet."_

….

Jane rubbed at her tired eyes, finally accepting that she'd need to get some sleep sometime. Her other hand closed the display of her omni-tool, allowing the room to descend into darkness. Shepard blinked a few times, clearing from her vision the remnants of the omni-tool's harsh orange light, burned into her retinas. With a sigh, she allowed herself to fall backwards into the cushions of her bed. This one was larger, more comfortable than the one in her quarters aboard the Normandy, but Jane always had trouble sleeping away from her crew. Despite the comfortable rooms allocated to her here, aboard Arcturus station, she knew she'd sleep more soundly back on her ship. But now was much too late for such thoughts. Her mind drifted, shifting and writhing back to the same bleak truth that always kept her awake late into the night.

The Reapers were coming.

Shepard's eyes slowly drooped shut, as she lapsed into fitful sleep. The word 'Reaper' bounced around the inside of her skull, furious and shadowy and toxic.

…

A high-pitched chime rang out over the room's speakers, alerting the sole occupant that someone was at his door.

Steven Hackett rose from his seat, putting aside a tall bottle of a dark liquid and a glass with ice-cubes clinking against the rim. Stepping forwards, he made his way towards a heavy barricade set up in his entry hall. A high-end kinetic-barrier hummed to life around his belt, enclosing the aging admiral in an almost-invisible shield. On one side of the barricade, a heavily-modified variant of the standard Avenger assault rifle hung like a trophy. A succession of lights flickered to life as the man approached, lifting it lovingly down from the hooks it hung on. Hackett hefted the rifle to his shoulder, and glanced down the sights.

The chime rang again, more insistently this time. The admiral lifted the assault rifle onto the barricade, aiming at the doorway. With a wave of one hand and a beep of acknowledgement from his omnitool, the door slid open. A spotlight flickered on from the ceiling, shining down into the open doorway. Painfully bright, the fixture was disguised as a mostly-defunct chandelier.

Hackett recognized a familiar face squinting and shielding itself from the light with a pair of outstretched hands. Another wave of his omnitool shut off the spotlight, and activated a high-powered security scanner bolted just inside the doorway. Blinking lights scanned the newcomer from ground to ceiling, before shutting off. The word, "Safe," flickered across a small screen above the doorway.

Hackett put aside the assault rifle, clicking the safety back on. "Prime Minister." he said, voice neutral.

"May I come in?" The portly man by the door asked. Half sarcastic and half pained, the man's hands were still occupied with rubbing his eyes. His clothing was rumpled, and his hair unkempt, as if he'd been running a hand through it for hours.

"Of course." Hackett replied, in the same even tone.

"What the hell is this?" said Amu Shastri, the Prime Minister of the Alliance. Gesturing to the assault rifle, the spotlight, and the barricade, he scratched his head. "Why on Earth would you possibly need all this?"

"Assassination attempts, for the most part." said the Admiral. "Seven so far. Four from Cerberus, two from the Salarian STG, and one from the Batarians, just to keep up appearances."

"What!" the Minister's eyes widened. "Why?"

"You've heard about the enlistment initiatives I pushed through the Alliance Interplanetary Security Committee, and the naval enlargement plan?"

"No, I've heard nothing." The corners of Shastri's mouth slanted downwards. "My cabinet members are not… forthcoming about many of the issues I wish to be made aware of. If they were not chosen personally by Alliance Intel, I'd think their obstructions were deliberate." The minister tottered forwards, still blinking both eyes furiously. He collapsed into a seat with an audible thump.

"You've heard _nothing_?" Hackett pressed. Confusion weighed his brows downwards into a scowl. "I've commissioned six new _fleets_. They're almost complete, for god's sake! The Enlistment Offices are working overtime, running ads and printing posters. The Alliance navy is going to almost triple in size, if we count support craft."

"But…" The minister clenched a fist. "I knew nothing about any of that!"

"That's what worries me." Hackett said. "And also what's worrying the salarians, the batarians, and of course Cerberus. They want me out of the picture, as I'm spearheading the whole thing. Hell, the salarian Dalatrass wants all of humanity out of the picture too."

"But-" The Prime Minister's head flopped back on his chair. He blinked at the ceiling a few times, before he sat up and stood. Beginning to pace around the room, his mouth opened a few times, but no sound came out.

"Why do you think Intel confiscated the aircar the dalatrass gave you on your last visit to Sur'Kesh?" Hackett asked. The admiral sat down, and picked up the whiskey he'd set aside just moments earlier. "It would have flew you into a building one day. Perfectly deniable, perfectly untraceable for the salarians. Of course there'd be some diplomatic fallout, but that's nothing in the grand scheme of things."

"Why?" Shastri murmured. "Why! What could we have done that would have set them off?" despite his clear panic and lack of sleep, the minister's political mind began to show itself.  
"Somebody cured the Genophage a few years back." the admiral explained.

Shastri's pacing stopped, and the man collapsed again into a chair. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Not in the slightest." Hackett said, almost regretfully. "And the salarians -the dalatrass, at least- is convinced we did it."

"But I'd know if…" the Minister's shoulders slumped. "Did we?" he asked. He almost sounded incredulous, as if he couldn't believe what was coming out of his mouth.

"The alliance didn't do it." Hackett said. Shastri sat up. "But it was a human who did." Shastri slumped back down. "Harry James Potter is his name. Without him, I don't think we -as a race- would have made it halfway as far as we have."

"You've got to be exaggerating." the minister said. "You've simply got to be exaggerating."

"He's the admiral of the Discretionary fleet." Hackett said, with a tone of finality. The minister's mouth formed the words, 'discretionary fleet,' but he didn't voice them as an expression of recognition flashed across his face.

"I think I could use some of that, whatever it is." Said the Minister, gesturing towards Hackett's bottle of Whiskey. The admiral poured another glass, and the minister downed it gratefully, coughing a little at the end. Hackett refilled both glasses.

"So what brought you here originally, at this hour?" Hackett glanced at a clock. 0100 hours. 1:00 in the morning.

"I wanted to get your opinion on the Council's announcement." The minister said, still reeling.

"It's been well over a week since the press conference. Why the delay?"

"I have the strangest feeling that some of my cabinet members are deliberately stalling me, but I can't think of any possible cause."

"Indoctrination."

"You can't be serious."

"Minister, I know what the Council saw. I got the same briefing."

"Indoc- wait." Amul Shastri pursed his lips, exhaling slowly. "You saw the same information as each member of the Citadel Council?"

"Yes." Hackett confirmed.

"And you told nobody of this." The Minister's tone would have been angry, in any other situation. Now, it was just tired.

"It wouldn't have helped." The aging admiral replied. "Nobody would have taken news of the Reapers seriously. I could have been booted out of the Navy, you realize. That is a risk I cannot take, especially not at this critical moment."

"How much danger is the galaxy in?" the Minister asked, voice soft and tentative.

"This will be a war like nothing our modern civilization has ever fought. There is nothing to compare it to, and I hope there never will be." Hackett's voice was low, almost gravelly.

"Why did you tell me all this?" Shastri murmured, his brown eyes fixing themselves to Hackett's piercing blue ones. "Why now?"

"Because when the Reapers come, and they're on their way now," The Admiral explained, time grim, "I'll need somebody to handle the political side of things. I've been called a tactical prodigy by many of my colleagues. I can win a war. But I can't fight, hell, nobody can fight when they're stuck halfway between the battlefield and a conference table."

A light flickered on. There was a terrible rushing noise, and then a thunderous explosion of sound. The room shook like an aircar in a thunderstorm. Warning alarms shrieked, and a temperature-sensor on Hackett's primary door flickered on. The digital dial instantly buried itself deep into the red section of the temperature-meter.

"Damn." Hackett whispered. "Well, I'm almost certain that makes eight." he said, louder now. Alarms shrilled on his omni-tool, and he read through them carefully. Blinking red, the words "Reaper Invasion Imminent," flickered and flashed at the center of the screen. Hackett's face paled. "Minister!" he called out, to the portly man, staring wide-eyed around the room. "We need to get to the fleets as soon as possible. Begin evacuation. The Reapers are almost here."

The Admiral's pondering eyes watched the Prime Minister, taking in every aspect of his posture and bearing. Hackett could come to only one conclusion.

Amul Shastri was afraid.

…...

"This is not a drill. General Quarters!" Said a voice over the PA system, strident and sharp. "General Quarters, all hands to battlestations!"

Shepard's eyes shot open. Dashing out of her bed, blankets flying, she rushed to the closet. In a matter of seconds, she'd slipped into her armor's undersuit. With a series of mechanical clicks, she snapped each piece of her armor into place. Her helmet came over her eyes, then sealed with one long hiss of releasing oxygen, pressurizing the suit's interior. In the corner of her HUD, a display appeared, indicating that her suit's environmental airtight seal was intact.

The floor lurched, with a roar of rending, tearing metal so loud her armor-suit activated its sonic-weapon mitigation systems. The PA system sparked, sputtered, and went dead. The floor vibrated, a distant rumble of impacts and explosions, dispersing through every bulkhead aboard.

EDI's avatar appeared on a nearby terminal. Sparking occasionally, the holographic projector flickered. "Shepard!" EDI's voice played, full of worry. "Arcturus is under attack. Reaper forces are trading casualties with the First and third Fleets. This station appears to be their primary target. You must get to the Normandy!"

"What-" the station shook, as Jane hooked her guns into their magnetic holsters.

EDI's voice cut out for a second, along with all the lights. Dull red emergency beams flickered on. "Fuel line breach detected in the station's diplomatic wing. Recommend evacuation!" The AI's voice played now in Jane's earpiece. "Tramways are displaying significant damage from sabotage. Be careful, Jane."

"Always am." Shepard replied, voice still bleary from sleep. Alarms blared, and warnings of all sorts began to play over alert channels. "EDI, how's the station's integrity?"

"Full evacuation just began. Escape pods-"  
"Evacuation? How bad is it, EDI?"

"The entire lower section of the diplomatic sector is depressurizing. Emergency teams have been dispatched to the breach, but estimated time to repair is unknown. A state of emergency has been declared."  
"How large is the breach?"

The station shuddered violently. Shepard almost lost her footing as she broke into a sprint. EDI spoke up once more, voice almost clinically detached. "There are two, now. One almost half a kilometer long, lengthwise along the inner rim of the station's Stanford-Torus ring. The other is a shot from a Reaper Capital ship that grazed the station's habitation section."

"Damn." Shepard muttered. Her feet clattered through the halls, clicking metal against metal.

Jane kept running, watching the path EDI overlaid across her visor. Gunmetal hallways and crimson-hued lighting blurred into a surreal mix of color and noise and sound. Shepard rounded the next corner, and froze as EDI's voice washed over her.

"Shepard!" The AI said, audibly worried. "Do you have a portkey?"  
"Yes." the woman replied, thoughts going to the tags hanging around her neck. "...To the Normandy." Under her helmet, Shepard's cheeks reddened.

Thankfully, EDI didn't notice, or chose not to comment. "I need you to rescue a pair of VIPs. Hackett's on the station, with Amul Shastri, the-"

"The Prime Minister of the Alliance." Shepard finished, grim. "Where are they?"  
"The diplomat's wing." EDI said. Something in her voice suggested there was more to it than a simple evacuation. "That's where the sabotage was focused. Structural analysis says that every single oxygen-line was targeted."

"Oxygen?" Jane wondered. "Were the saboteurs trying to asphyxiate them?"

"No." EDI replied, voice uncharacteristically grim. "They didn't shut the oxygen off. They made it impossible to shut off. I'd guess that they inserted a brute-force program into one of the primary terminals in the station security office. Now, the office is literally cut off from all contact, and the station's oxygen reserves are emptying themselves into the diplomat's wing of the station. This is naturally an issue, as they also ruptured twenty-two fuel lines."

"Fire?"

"The station's fire-suppression teams are on their way, but prospects are grim." EDI spoke softly, quietly. "It's a firestorm. There are no clear exits or entrances anywhere. The saboteurs were thorough. I believe that this may even have been a contingency built into the station itself. One or more of the station's designers may have had connections to groups in need of a situation like this, perhaps to extract operatives. Cerberus is the most likely culprit, as they have been known for creating contingency plans decades in advance."  
"This is a nightmare, isn't it." Shepard said, halfway wishful thinking and halfway a curse. "I'm still comfortably sleeping in my apartment in the residential sector. There's no fire, there's no chaos, and the Reapers are all a figment of my imagination."

"Sorry, Shepard." EDI replied, unapologetic. A new waypoint appeared on her HUD. "Rerouting. Your mission -should you choose to accept it-"

"Extract Hackett and the Prime Minister," Shepard finished, taking off at a run. "VIP escort mission. My favorite. Always failed those back in N-school."

"You still passed with flying colors," EDI said. "With or without the VIP."

"That was just the one mission. And how was I to know that I was supposed to get the man out of the secure, safe, armoured compound? That wasn't in the briefing!" Shepard had no idea why she was suddenly defending her actions from almost fifteen years ago. She kept running, watching the glowing line projected onto her HUD. An empty elevator shaft yawned open in EDI's path. The waypoint dropped downwards. Jane stepped over the edge,using biotics to slow her fall.

"No, but the gunship was. Standard protocol is to retreat if outgunned." EDI replied,with more than a little sarcasm.

"I wasn't outgunned, though!" Jane protested, as she grabbed hold of the next ledge down the elevator shaft. "I'd just learned how to biotic charge. Naturally, I felt the need to test myself. It was N-school. If you weren't testing yourself, you weren't passing."

"So you ordered the VIP to barricade himself in a room, then decided to go mano-a-mano with a fully-armed, anti-infantry-spec ground-to-orbit Mantis gunship?" EDI's sarcasm was nearly tangible.

"Hey, it seemed like a good idea at the time." Shepard mumbled, thoughts distant. She flew around one last curving hallway. Glimmering orange light flickered off the walls, and a low roaring sound came from up ahead, constant and furious. Occasional muffled yells and the harsh hiss of chemical fire-retardant split the monotonous roar. Jane rounded the bend to find a few frantic firefighters barely holding off a wall of flame with heavy-duty extinguishers and some sort of barricade.

Glancing into the fire, Jane frowned at the blinking light of her objective. "No other way around?" she said, resigned. The station shook under her feet, almost tossing her off balance. The wall of flame roared, growing closer as one of the firemen stumbled, losing his grip on his hose.

Shepard sprinted forwards, grabbing the nozzle in one hand, and turning it back towards the licking tongues of flame. "EDI, how far off are my VIPs?"

"Approximately three hundred meters forwards." The AI replied. "Hurry, Shepard. My sensors detect that the fire is spreading towards Shastri and Hackett from all sides."

"Ah, hell." said Shepard. The station shuddered. Screams of rending metal echoed from all directions, some distorted by the flames. Something creaked, groaning and cracking in a way metal and alloy shouldn't. A hissing noise grew louder, no longer nearly silent against the roar and rumble of the station's tortured bulkheads. A furious high-pitched keen rose over everything else.

"That's some sort of flammable gas burning." EDI announced. "Watch your surroundings, Shepard. There should be a patch kit at the breach point. Automated security-protocols like that are some of the only programs still running."

Gazing into the inferno, Jane's mind whirled. A cloud of billowing smoke rolled across the ceiling, dripping acrid flame and smoke across the corridor. Dimly, Shepard heard the two firemen yelling into radios on their collars, something about falling back. She steeled her nerves, and stepped forwards, tossing the hose aside. Now, glaring into the flames, she thought back to Illium. She'd been using biotics to deflect missiles, and her amp had been overwhelmed. It had overheated, really. The thing had launched itself from her neural-jack and splattered molten metal across the floor. And despite the temperature, she hadn't been injured. She hadn't even felt the heat. According to Dr. Chakwas, the ballistic-ceramics of her helmet had cracked, but her skin had not a single burn.

Jane tossed the hose aside, and stepped forwards. Steeling her nerves, she passed into the roiling firestorm engulfing the corridor. "Shepard! No!" EDI's voice called out, this time projected straight into her brain through her biotic amp, rather than her suit's speakers. "You-" The AI was silent for a moment. "Your core temperature is stable." she said, with as much wonderment as Shepard had ever heard. "The air around you is fluctuating between one thousand and twelve hundred degrees."

"Yep." Jane confirmed, watching with morbid fascination as flames licked against her armor. She felt warm, but nothing more. Perhaps birdsong, off in the distance? Shaking her head, she stepped forwards, vision blurred against the thick smoke. "EDI?"

"Yes?" the AI said, with a worried tone.

"Can you adjust my visual filters so that I can see more clearly?" Shepard asked, tentative. Just a moment later, Jane's vision cleared up. The walls around her glowed, outlined by wireframe structures superimposed over her HUD. "Thanks."

"Be _careful,_ Shepard." EDI chastised, though jane was sure she'd heard the hint of a smile -was that even possible in a synthesized voice?- in EDI's tone.

Jane crept forwards, buffeted first one way and then the other by furious gusting currents in the flames. Just a few meters forwards, in some sort of alcove, a spurting cone of fire jetted out into the hallway. As she passed, Jane stared into the alcove, and paused. Three ruptured pipes ran vertically through the alcove, each one spewing fire into the hall. Flaring lights and an alarm played from a omni-gel dispenser against one wall.

" _Fuel Line Breach Detected! Fuel Line Breach-"_ The alarm repeated, over and over. Drowned out by the roar of the flames and the hiss of escaping fuel, the alarm stopped mere seconds after Jane sealed the three pipes, liberally spraying omni-gel around. The fire and smoke around her diminished, as she approached the waypoint EDI had marked out. Shepard rounded a corner. Here, the fires had guttered out, fueled solely by the now-sealed fuel lines.

"How hot is it here?" Shepard asked. Through the smoke still filling the corridor, she could see a heavy blast door, blackened by flames from the pipes she'd just repaired. EDI's waypoint was centered directly on the door's electronic lock. The holographic display flickered, not designed for the thousand-degree heat from the blazing fuel line.

"Temperature in this corridor has dropped to just over one thousand degrees." EDI replied. "The station's cooling systems are working as hard as possible, but they're not perfect."

Shepard waved her omni-tool at the holographic lock. With a pained crunch of disfigured metal, the upper half of the door slid into the ceiling. The lower half simply sparked, emitting a buzz-click noise as it shuddered. It was stuck. Visible beyond the half-opened doorway, a whirling crimson inferno obscured the far end of the hallway. Jane barely had time to cover behind the lower half before the difference in pressure between the two rooms blasted debris and ash and molten shards of glass into her corridor. She felt more than saw the wave of flame pouring into the room, as the phoenix song in her blood grew louder and louder.

Stepping forwards, Shepard strode carefully through a scene of destruction like very few she'd ever seen before. Of course, she usually saw them after the fact, but she had no trouble recognizing that Arcturus station would never be the same.

At the far end of the hall, A service ladder ran upwards into the ceiling. EDI's path-markers traveled up its rungs and out of sight. "The next few corridors are blocked." EDI explained unprompted. Wordlessly, Jane climbed upwards. A thin catwalk extended in front of her. Its railings were missing. If they were plastic, they'd have melted off only seconds after the fires began. Shepard walked along the catwalk, dropping down by yet another door. The fires had receded, here, or perhaps they'd never gotten this far in the first place. Shepard could almost see the station's cooling systems working overtime in this sector. She was close. EDI's waypoint read 'twelve meters.' Examining the door, Shepard agreed with EDI's assessment. Heavy alloys and an inscription on the door stated that this was one of the Ambassadorial Panic Rooms.

"Temperature?" Shepard said aloud, hoping again for EDI to respond.

"Two hundred twenty degrees, Shepard." The AI said. "Hackett and the Prime Minister aren't far behind this door. Open it and close it quickly."

Jane reached out a hand to the lock, omni-tool broadcasting authorization codes. Sparks sprayed outwards, hissing and humming as the holographic screen tried to activate. "That's not going to work." Shepard muttered, half to herself.

EDI spoke up. "While the terminal on this side of the blast door may be damaged, perhaps the one on Hackett's end may be intact." EDI let out a gentle _hmm_ , and said, "I can't reach either the Minister or the Admiral through their comlinks. How do you plan to gain entry?"

Shepard shrugged, raising a gauntleted fist to the door. Biotic energy crackled around clenched fingers. "I'll knock."

…

Hackett settled back into his chair. Already, the room's temperature was rising. He'd done what he could, but there seemed to be no escape for him and the minister. He knew now that all entrances had been sealed. This was no mere assassination attempt- the timing was just too suspicious. Already Hackett watched as footage reached his omni-tool of scattered clusters of Reaper forces engaging the Alliance Navy. The Navy was making surprising headway, but still taking painful losses, Hackett thought. But something was wrong.

For now, though, his thoughts remained on escape, and on his surroundings. Somebody had to have triggered the explosions and the fuel-line breaches. Somebody's name would be attached to the orders. Even if their clearances were falsified, that would still provide a clue as to how the sabotage was perpetrated.

A dull thudding noise pulled him from his reflection. It repeated three times, as if someone was knocking on the heavy blast door closing off the entrance of Hackett's apartment. The admiral rose to his feet. Quick steps brought him to a glowing comm-terminal by the barricade set up in front of his main entryway.

"Name and rank." he spoke clearly into a microphone. Hackett waited cautiously for a reply, taking hold of his souped-up Avenger rifle once more. Flicking the safety off, he aimed down his sights at the doorway.

"Jane Shepard, Council Spectre. I'm here to get you the hell off of this station." said a voice, garbled slightly.

"Enter with your hands above your head. Walk slowly." Hackett ordered, opening the blast doors. "And I want you to prove you are who you say you are." He pushed a button, and the doors hissed open. One of them sprayed sparks as it settled, crunching against another metal surface. A wave of heat spread through the room, almost a physical force. Still-burning fires and acrid chemicals sprayed across the corridor, further back. An armored figure stood in the doorway, hands raised. Hackett noted the difference in armor indicating that the newcomer was female. The armored form stepped into the room, as Hackett quickly shut the blast doors.

One of the woman's hands went slowly to the back of her helmet. With a long hiss, her armor's atmospheric seal disengaged. A gauntleted hand grasped the helmet and pulled it upwards. A wry smile set into a familiar face greeted the admiral. Hackett lowered his gun, and stood.

"Admiral, Prime Minister." Shepard began, voice quick. "I'm your escape route. I assume you've both had the 'magic' briefing?"

"That's correct." Hackett spoke for the both of them. The minister just nodded, mute. "How do you plan on getting us out?"

"I've got a Portkey." Shepard said. One hand unwrapped her armor's neckpiece, while the other moved to fish for something around her neckline. A moment later, the Spectre pulled from beneath her armor the Alliance-issue dogtags that carried her name and rank. "Grab onto the chain. Keep a firm grip, and we'll be out of here in just a moment." she said, holding out the necklace.

"Where will we arrive?" Hackett asked, as he clenched a fist around the portkey. "I need to keep an eye on the fighting here." Amul Shastri as well took hold of the portkey, looping as much of his arm through it as he could. Shepard confirmed that both men were holding on, and whispered something.

A whirling vortex of blue-black magic and a magical hook behind the navel pulled all three travelers from reality. Just a half-second later, the twisting funnel of spinning, gut-wrenching power deposited everyone on the Normandy's bridge. A crew-member jumped, and stumbled back with a violent curse. EDI's avatar flickered into life by the galaxy-map, now displaying combat-statistics.

"Welcome to the Normandy." Shepard said, with a grin. She nodded to her two passengers, and stepped towards the cockpit, where Joker's voice could clearly be heard, speaking hurriedly with EDI.

Ignoring the startled crewmember, Admiral Hackett stepped up to a holoprojector showing the constantly-updating results of one of EDI's in-depth combat-analysis programs.

"This is excellent." he said, examining the screen. Tapping a few buttons on his omnitool, he spoke. The admiral's posture straightened, and he injected a new well of courage into his voice. "This is Fleet Admiral Hackett, broadcasting to all Alliance fleets. I will be acting as a command-and-control element for the duration of this engagement. Route strategic information through the Kilimanjaro's Quantum-Comms to the SSV Normandy. Good luck, and God be with every one of us."

Data began to stream in through the Normandy's QEC. EDI's massive processing power allowed her to analyze and compile everything into a more comprehensive format, splashing it across the Normandy. Hackett looked across his screen, expression grim. A crewmember beside him did a double-take, and quickly found a flight-harness for the Fleet Admiral and the Prime Minister.

A chill ran down the Admiral's spine as he looked everything over. He'd noticed it before, but now it was much more obvious. Something was off. He was missing something.

First one flash of blue, then ten, then hundreds appeared, heralding the arrival of a veritable armada. Long, gleaming ships swept elegantly through the void. For a moment, the Normandy's sensors focused on a single craft, almost three times as long as any other. Emblazoned on one side in white letters taller than a standard Alliance Dreadnought is tall, the name 'Gaia' stood out, brazen against the gunmetal grey of the rest of the craft.

Hot tears of joy gathered at the edges of the Admiral's eyes, little pinpricks of emotion. His vision blurred ever-so-slightly, and the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a slight smile.

Across Hackett's strategy-screen, a single line of text appeared, condensed down from hundreds upon hundreds of messages from all across of the fleet.

"The Discretionary Fleet has arrived."


	20. Don't Fear the Reaper

"Admiral!" A voice intruded, interrupting Hackett's careful focus on the flow of combat. He glanced upwards, recognizing Jane Shepard. "I just got a message from Harry Potter." She held up an omni-tool, displaying a block of text. "Check the postscript." she said. Hackett's eyes widened, as he read it through.

 _Hey, Jane! I'm back. Sorry for the delay, I came as soon as I could. I'll call you up once we get an hour or so of quiet, alright? On another topic, an… Acquaintance of sorts told me that you recently 'changed the outcome of the war.' Pardon my curiosity, but have you done anything particularly paradigm-shifting recently?_

 _More than normal, I mean. You've got my unique brand of luck._

 _See you soon, Jane._

 _-Harry_

 _P.S. I've got a bunch of mass relays that weren't being used. Just tell me if you need a connection somewhere._

 _P.P.S. I've been distracting the main section of the Reaper attack-group heading for Earth a few light-years off the galactic plane. There are fleets heading for almost every single race's homeworld. I've got a fleet heading for Palaven. I think they'll make it there in time, since I dealt with the incursion relay on the edge of the Mactare system. Khar'shan is a loss, as you should know. Expect indoctrinated batarian spies among the refugees entering Alliance space. Batarians converted into husks will likely comprise a large part of the ground-invasion portion of the Reapers' armies._

 _I've got a portion of my fleet heading for Arcturus right now. You'll probably get this message right before or immediately after they arrive._

 _Constant vigilance, Shepard. Stay strong._

"That's good news, at least." Hackett said. "Has he sent anything else?"

"Not yet." Shepard shut down her omni-tool. "I'll notify you if he does." she stepped back, allowing the admiral to once more turn his attention towards the display in front of him, filled with casualty counts, attack plans, and charts and readouts of enemy movement.

Hackett allowed himself to descend back into the constant chaos of messages and fleet maneuvers with the ease of long practice.

Reaper ships began to arrive en masse, announced by hundreds upon hundreds of flashes of cherenkov radiation, only visible in the blue section of the visible range of light. This was far too many enemies to take down at once. Even counting the Discretionary Fleet, the Reapers now well outnumbered all human forces.

Plans and plots sprung into being as the Admiral's thoughts whirled. He settled a moment later on an idea so ingenious, so desperate, that the Reapers would have no way to predict it.

"This is Admiral Hackett." he spoke. "All fleets, begin a gradual withdrawal. Prioritize evacuation of civilians. Make for the Relay." Despite his grim words, Hackett's back straightened. "Shepard." He called out, glancing towards the front of the Normandy.

A few moments later, Shepard strode back towards the CIC from the cockpit. "Sir?" she said, still in armor blackened but otherwise unharmed by the smoke and heat of Arcturus Station.

"I've got a task for this ship." The edges of the aging Admiral's mouth turned upwards into a grim smile. "I want you and your crew to set charges on the Mass Relay."

Shepard's face morphed into an expression of cautious consideration. Her eyebrows drew together. "This is a Cruiser. We don't carry Weapons of Mass Destruction." Her expression lightened. "We do have an incredibly powerful main gun, though. Harry upgraded it. It's rated at six megatons per shot."

"Good. That should do. Now were upgrades made to the Normandy's engines as well? Specifically her FTL-drives?" Hackett's voice was low, urgent.

"Yes," Shepard confirmed. "The Normandy could stay behind while the fleets fell back, and destroy the relay. We'd need to get you to safety, though. Preferably to one of the fleet's Dreadnoughts. We do have a stealth shuttle in the cargo-bay."

Hackett leaned back, and let out a deep relieved sigh. "Thank god," he murmured. Then he stood, and spoke louder, "Once the fleets have made it through the relay, I want you to destroy it after us. But you need to know -your pilot needs to know- that the explosion from a mass relay travels at faster-than-light speeds until the eezo field it generates disperses enough. You need to be in FTL well before your shots impact the relay, or you'll be caught in the blast radius."

"That's one hell of a way to deal with the Reapers." Shepard said. "But what about the Discretionary Fleet?"

Hackett nodded. "I need you to brief Mister Potter on our plan. We can coordinate later to reconnect the Sol system to the Relay Network. I'd estimate that you've got half an hour for that at the very latest. If this goes well, we should have a few days of peace. Some time to repair and rearm, and spool up the Martian Shipyards." The Admiral stepped away from the chair, Prime Minister in tow. "Godspeed, and good luck Shepard."

…...

"Jane, I'm truly sorry-"

"It wasn't your fault-" Both Harry and Jane began, as soon as the comlink flickered open.

"Go ahead." said the wizard.

"No, you were saying something." Shepard protested.

"No, no. It's no trouble." Harry waved one hand. Then, almost reluctantly, he widened the topic of conversation. "What's the purpose of this call? Business or pleasure?"

"Business, unfortunately." Shepard sighed, though the edges of her mouth curved upwards, into a smile. "And while it's great to see you again, there are more pressing matters."

"Understood. Reapers take priority." Harry nodded. "Give me the rundown. What's the Alliance doing right now?" The wizard hesitated. "I've been distracting a hell of a lot of Reaper ships a quarter light-year away, but I can't do that forever."

"Wait," Jane said. "Is this channel absolutely secure?"

"Yeah." The wizard said. "On my end, at least. My sneakoscope isn't going crazy, so I think it's fine on your end as well."

"Alright." Jane marshalled her thoughts into something resembling coherency. "Hackett plans to lure the Reapers towards the Earth-bound Relay. He's going to get all the Alliance ships through, and then the Normandy is to detonate it."

"...That could work." Harry said. A grin spread across his face. "That could actually work!" He leaned back in his seat, as if to relax, though his lips turned downwards, and his grin disappeared. "The issue is that the Reaper Armada is larger than I'd feared." said the wizard. "I recommend that you wait as long as you possibly can before detonating the Relay. I'll try and lure in the ones I'm currently engaging. Every single one of them destroyed by this explosion is another one I don't have to hunt down. I can't hope to take them all out in a single massive battle, or even an awful lot of massive battles. They simply outnumber us by an... alarming... amount."

"What's your take on this? What's the best outcome here, and how can we work towards it?" Jane asked, thinking out loud more than truly asking the questions.

"If we pull this off properly, then we'll probably be able to take out a good chunk of the Reaper fleets heading for Earth." Harry said, utterly serious. "We have a chance to limit the damage, to keep hostile forces out of the Sol system for another few days. A week at best."

"What kind of numbers would we be facing once the Reapers regrouped?" Jane kept an eye on the holographic display showing the evacuation progress.

"They'd have a heavily-reduced force prodding the edges of the system's defenses in five, six days." Harry said, with a tone of eerie finality. "No more than that."

"Heavily reduced?" Jane queried, prodding. "Reduced as in fifty ships remaining? Or five hundred?"

"I'm not sure." the wizard backtracked. "If this stunt with the relay works, then we might be seeing less than one hundred ships on this front. Enough that the Reapers would pull back, and avoid Earth for the time being."

"Why? I thought Earth was their primary target. Otherwise they would've gone to Palaven first. Or maybe Kahje."

At this, Harry conceded. "I don't rightly know," he said, "But I think that Earth was just the closest planet to the incursion forces. They're trying to hit Palaven right now."

"Shit." Jane whispered. "So we're not going to get much help from the turians, then."

"We'll burn that bridge when we get to it." the wizard joked, halfway serious.

"That we will." Shepard confirmed, eyes distant, thoughts even further afield.

"So what happened while I was gone?" Harry asked, tone more formal. He continued, speaking hesitantly about more important topics. "I've been reading through logs from my… information network. You and Liara did one hell of a job. You made a few deals, set up a few ...meetings that I'd never have been able to pull off."

"It was mostly Liara." said Jane. "I'm sure she'll be thrilled to hear that." Shepard smiled. "I know I am. We were worried that we'd screw up something important."

"You did come a little close." Harry admitted, showing a flicker of candour. "But you didn't, and that's all that matters."

"Good." Shepard said. Relieved, she spoke up again. "Back to the topic at hand," she glanced at a holoterminal, displaying the progress of Hackett's retreat. "When are you going to get your fleets out of the system?"

"My ships will move closer to the Gaia as the retreat continues. I'll try and lure more and more of the hostile fleets into the system, as well. As soon as the Normandy opens fire on the Relay, I'm going to activate the recall function on the Gaia."

"You've developed a way to teleport ships." Shepard said, incredulous. "How?"

"The Gaia is thirty kilometers long." Harry said, explaining. "It isn't possible for it to be entirely guns. Sure, it's one of the strongest craft in my arsenal, but it's jam-packed with all sorts of internal systems as well."

"Still," Jane said, with a playful pout. "Teleportation."

"And a whole host of other things, as well." Harry said. "I've been here for almost forty years. Sure, I took over the Broker's network and assumed the mantle, but that could only keep me so busy. I spent a hell of a lot of time puzzling over rune calculators and arithmancy tables before Dobby happened." A wistful grin spread across his face. "Dobby can do all the rune calculations for me. Makes everything so much easier. Still, the mechanism takes up almost three square kilometers of the Gaia's internals. It's right up there with the Eezo core, reactor banks, antimatter generators, and antiproton propulsion drives when measuring size."

"Could the Alliance ever create anything like that?" Shepard could barely guess at the implications of that sort of device.

"Not unless you want to fiddle with complex magics on an unprecedented scale." Harry said. "And the system actually consumes eezo to power the teleportation."

"Why? Eezo isn't fuel."

"It's not conventional fuel, but it's an extremely magical substance. It's the easiest fuel to find, since it's all over the place."

"What are you talking about?" Shepard face formed a perfect mask of disbelief. "Eezo's the most expensive part of any ship."

"Right, right." Harry backtracked. "But it's only rare because it's been mined in this section of the galaxy for hundreds of millions of years. Just go a few hundred light years away from a mass relay, and you'll start finding it in quantities that would boggle belief. It's formed from the energies of stars going supernova, and there's plenty of those across the galaxy."

"I'll pass the recommendation on to Hackett and fleet command." Jane said. "That could be useful to know."

"I'm assuming Hackett told you about the Screw You Twice mandate?" Harry changed the topic, face an odd mix of contained humor and deadly seriousness.

"The _what?_ " Shepard said, incredulous.

"That's the official name -translated from salarian- for the Council mandate classifying all information related to Relay detonations. It was put in place just after the end of the Rachni War. The idea was to wipe out anyone reckless enough to destroy a relay." Harry blinked. "Mostly it was to spite the krogan, actually. Sometime in the three hundred years between the end of the Rachni war and the Krogan Rebellions, the Krogan ambassador to the Citadel became obsessed with relays and the protheans. Looking back, it may have been Reaper indoctrination. Either way, the turian, salarian, and asari councilors decided unanimously to give the krogan nothing about the relays. The mandate made sure that the krogan had no idea that a relay's detonation does actually travel faster than C. Late in the Krogan Rebellions, a few centuries afterwards, almost a million krogan warriors got vaporized when trying to invade a planet after they decided to cut off intersystem transit by destroying the relay." Harry was silent for a moment. He glanced at something offscreen, then spoke up again. "This isn't the best time for a history lesson, I suppose."

"Don't worry about it." Jane replied. "And Hackett did make me aware of the Relay detonation's unique properties." She glanced again towards the holographic display of the evacuation. "Though I didn't know why the information was classified, or what the mandate was called." She smiled. "The history is interesting, and it's one of the handful of amusingly vulgar salarian laws that made it into the books. Besides, I think it's good to get a frame of reference for events that occurred well before humanity reached the galactic stage. It helps keep us crazy humans humble." She paused, laughed, and spoke again. "It's helped me make conversation, too. I've met more than a few members of the longer-lived races who spoke casually of the krogan rebellions, beings who personally remember thousands of years of history." Jane glanced sideways, at EDI's display.

"Two minutes, Shepard." the AI said, interjecting before Harry's next remark. "Firing resolutions are locked in, along with our planned escape route through the outbound Arcturus-2 Relay."

"Good." said Jane. "Harry," she looked back up at the screen. "We'll have to cut the history lesson short, it appears." she grinned fiercely. "Be ready to get your ships out of here."

"Yep." Said the wizard. "I'm pulling back towards the Relay. Maybe we can lure some Reapers even closer."

Two minutes flew by. Harry scrutinized his screens, watching for the finest details that could lead to destruction.

"No way is this going to go smoothly." Shepard said, talking to herself as much as Harry.

"Hm. This might go just fine." Harry replied. "But this particular trick won't work again. If the Reapers are true AI, then they'll learn that this is in our repertoire, and work around it."

Outlined on the screens, hundreds -even thousands- of black, squid-like ships sailed towards the relay leading into the Sol System. Moments passed, as the last of the evacuation shuttles vanished in flashes of blue, the only part of the cherenkov radiation released by FTL travel in the visible spectrum.

Jane couldn't help but think that the Reapers were holding back.

"Why would they allow that?" Harry evidently thought the same. "The Reapers have FTL travel, just like we do. I've been keeping ships in reserve, and scout frigates waiting for them to jump on the relay. But they didn't." He considered for a moment. "We can't do anything about it now, but this has to be important. If only we knew _why-_ "

"If you're gonna get your ships out of here, you'd better do it now." Jane said, stepping away from the console. "Joker!" she commanded, accessing the cockpit's intercom through her glowing omni-tool. "Fire. Full power."

"Yes, ma'am!" the pilot's voice responded, only slightly less eager than ever. The Normandy rumbled, and the bulkhead shuddered imperceptibly. Some of the ship's interior lights dimmed. On the Normandy's screens, a massive beam of blue lanced towards the Sol relay.

"See you at the Citadel." Harry called out. "Don't be afraid to blackmail the Council! I might be out of contact again." Then the wizard reached for a lever by his side. "Oh! And tell Hackett that I'll have a new Relay connection set up in a day or two!" The wizard pressed a button, and wrenched the lever upwards. The video feed disappeared. On the Normandy, Shepard watched as hundreds upon hundreds of signatures simply vanished as Harry's ships disappeared.

Joker hit the Normandy's maneuvering thrusters hard, then sent the ship into a brief FTL jump. When the ship reappeared, the exit-relay from Arcturus out to the wider galaxy loomed large on the screens. Off in the background, a line of pale blue began stretch itself out across the stars.

Shepard secured herself in one of the Combat Info-Centre's inertia-dampening couches. The ship's systems would usually suffice, but the sheer acceleration Joker was applying wasn't stable enough for the ship to compensate completely. So crash-couches it was, until the Normandy was back in (relatively) safe space.

Shepard barely noticed as they passed through the relay, eyes still tracing the brilliant line of blue blazing towards its target.

…...

Admiral Steven Hackett stood tall on the bridge of the SSV Kilimanjaro. This was his domain, and in it, he was in command. The ship was his, the crew was his, and every single piece of equipment aboard was all his. And he would fail none of them.

"Sir!" a fresh-faced analyst spoke up, drawing his attention. Hackett looked up, staring at the man.

"What is it?" spoke the grizzled admiral.

"We've lost contact with all of our Communications Buoys. No responses, not even static." spoke the analyst, ponting out blinking data points on a glowing screen.

"Hm." Hackett said, stepping quickly towards the console. "Run their last recorded scans. Give me the visual footage. Last thirty seconds."

The analyst turned back to the console, and tapped twice on the keyboard. A screen appeared, displaying a field of stars. On the screen, one star grew brighter and brighter, until the probe registered it as a blast from a thanix cannon with a few alarmed beeping noises.

Hackett couldn't hide the excitement brewing in his chest. "Show me footage of the relay." He spoke just in time. The analyst pressed another key, and the screen flipped around, showing footage from the sensors on the other side of the probe. There the relay sat, dead-center of the screen. Then a massive beam of blue energy tore through it, visible coming out the other side of the relay. The whole structure shuddered. Then the visual feed from the communications beacon cut out.

"That's where we lost the signal." said the analyst, visibly worried. "All of them went black, and we haven't been able to raise the beacons-"

"Combat statistics officer," Hackett requested.

"Sir?" said a man on the other end of the room, spinning his chair around.

Hackett grinned. "Please credit the Normandy SR-2 with one Reaper killed. Make a note to amend the count at a later date to the exact number of wrecks in the entire Arcturus system minus however many the rest of the Alliance Navy and the Discretionary fleet destroyed."

There was silence on the bridge. Then Hackett's smile grew wider, and an almost-palpable wave of euphoria overtook the room.

…..

Admiral Steven Hackett had a meeting to prepare for.

The Sol System Defense Committee was one of the most important organizations in the Alliance. As the name suggested, they were responsible for the security of the entire home star system of the human race. Hackett knew how gruelling the job could be—he'd served a term on the committee fifteen or twenty years after the conclusion of the First Contact War. The sheer amount of paperwork required… The admiral shivered. He was glad he'd been promoted up to a patrol fleet position.

Now, though, the committee was poised to ruin everything he and the retired N7 Harry Potter had worked for. The committee had called an emergency meeting to discuss Hackett's strategy of 'blow up the relay.' Of course, they didn't know how destructive the detonation would be. They didn't have that information. Nor were they aware that Harry was setting up another Relay Connection even now.

The meeting they'd called was just ambiguous enough that it could wind up ending with Hackett stripped of his rank, or promoted. The committee members were covering their bases, making sure that they hadn't backed themselves into a corner. They had the legal authority to remove him from his command if they wanted to, or if he was 'unfit for duty,' but they still made sure that they'd be able to turn it around if he accounted himself well under their questions.

Hackett sighed.

And according to Harry, one of them was a Cerberus sympathizer.

Hackett wished desperately for a glass of something alcoholic.

….

"This emergency meeting of the Sol System Defense Committee is called to order." Spoke a portly man in a dress uniform. The clicking noise of hundreds of omni-tool and camera-drone apps filled the air, until the speaker adjusted a setting on his console. His hologram flickered briefly over the Kilimanjaro's bridge holotable. Hackett noted the flicker, and ignored it. He'd been called as a person of interest to the holo-conference, and was required to attend. Not much could actually demand a fleet admiral's time, Hackett ruminated. This, however, ranked as one of those few things that most definitely could.

There was a system of checks and balances put in place when the Systems Alliance first reached space, and found that its navy could be days out of contact depending on their patrol route. Committees and oversight boards were put in as a sort of stopgap measure to prevent a rogue fleet admiral with a cult of personality from simply setting up his own private kingdom somewhere off on the edges of the galaxy. It worked, too.

Despite the fact that Hackett outranked every single member of the committee, he was still beholden to their decisions. It irked him, but it was necessary. Now if only these sorts of of bureaucratic bodies could reach decisions more quickly…This was an emergency meeting, though, so Hackett still held out some hope that it could be concluded soon.

He had a sneaking suspicion that he knew what they wanted him here for, as well. Blowing up relays had consequences.

Four other holograms appeared shortly, fizzling into existence above the holotable next to the first. A harried-looking woman in a similar dress uniform spoke up, reading from the console in front of her. "Admiral Hackett, please explain your actions in the naval engagement that began at 0732 hours today according to your ship's clock. Specifically-"

"Why the hell did you blow up the other end of the Charon Relay?" spat the fourth and last of the new holograms. That last figure's uniform had substantially fewer ribbons and medals than the other committee members.

Gasps rose from the crowd of reporters watching the holoconference from the same room as the committee chair. Cameras clicked, and omni-tools buzzed.

"Mikhailovich, control yourself!" the first figure hissed. "You've already been demoted over this whole fiasco. You can make your opinions known later on. And in a sensible manner this time, or you'll wind up being demoted twice in a single day for the exact same thing."

"Besides, your presence here is only a formality." said another woman, almost gloating. She sent a scathing glare towards Mikhailovich's hologram. "You-"

"ORDER!" the portly hologram shouted, glaring at both Mikhailovich and the gloating committee member. His face began to turn a highly unflattering shade of red. "I'll repeat. I call this meeting of the Sol System Defense Committee to order." a tense silence filled the air. Hackett simply stood silent, watching the chaos with twinkling blue eyes. The first figure spoke up again, much more quietly. "This meeting has been called to examine the events of last night's skirmish with ...Reaper forces." The man's head bowed. "I call Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett forwards."

"Good afternoon." said Hackett, just affable enough to calm some of the tensions running rife. "I understand you have a list of questions for me?"

"That's correct." replied Mikhailovich, bitterly. "You're gonna answer for your crimes."

The committee-chair—the first hologram—spoke up, voice frozen and gritting his teeth. "Now that _Mr._ Mikhailovich has finished speaking, I'd like to make a motion to recuse him from the proceedings of this meeting. Do I have a second?"  
"Now wait just a-" Mikhailovich began.

"Seconded." said the gloating woman, gleefully.

"I-" Mikhailovich tried to interrupt, but the committee-chair spoke over him.

"Thank you, that will be enough. All in favor of the motion say Aye?"

"Aye." said the remaining two holograms. The committee-chair made a note of something on his omni-tool, and pushed a button. Mikhailovich's mouth moved, but nothing audible came out. He gestured towards a record-keeper, and glanced red-faced over the crowd of reporters watching him.

Hackett watched the five holograms spread across his holotable.

"Former Rear Admiral Mikhailovich will be facing court-martial," announced the committee chair. "To determine his culpability in a severe count of obstruction of justice in an Naval Intelligence Bureau investigation."

This time, Mikhailovich's mouth moved even more, and his hologram got a lot more red than could be healthy, but still nothing audible came out. Moments later, Alliance Military Police took Mikhailovich by both forearms and dragged him out of the holographic projection-room.

"Why-" one of the committee members began, but the committee chair cut them off.

"I muted him. If there's nothing useful he can contribute to this investigation, then he won't contribute anything." The man glared at each one of the committee members participating in the holoconference. "Now, to the matter at hand," the committee chair said, as he turned towards Admiral Hackett, and sighed. "The first question this tribunal requests that you answer is the same one that the former rear admiral asked so… elegantly." The man looked drained. Some of the red left his face, but he wore all the stress of the oncoming invasion in the lines of his face. "Why," he asked, tired, "Did you decide to blow up a Mass Relay? And why that one?" he said, emotions a ball of confusion and frustration and desperation, all wrapped up around a little core of worry. "What were you thinking? What was running through your head?" Some of the color made its way back into his face, and his brows knit together. "What could possibly have—" he cut himself off, calming down. "...Off the record, It's been one hell of a tough twenty-four hours for all of us. Go ahead, Admiral."

"Thank you." Hackett said, both gracious and careful. As the committee as a whole could order him around, it was best to be polite. "Before I begin, I should explain a key facet of last night's events. Some of what I say is going to be classified, confidential information. I'm going to assume everyone who could possibly hear this has been read into the Official Secrets Act?"

The committee chair glanced down at his console. He looked up a few seconds later, and nodded. "Yes. All the press members have done so, and of course myself and the rest of the committee."

"Wonderful." Hackett sighed. "Let's begin with the Relay. Specifically, destroying a Relay." the admiral paused, taking in both the holograms and his bridge crew. An almost palpable silence pervaded the room. Hackett was sure that the members of the press watching with the committee-chair were all on the edges of their seats, just like half his crew. "This is knowledge that has been classified for the better part of three thousand years." his lips twisted into a thin smile. "Relays, when destroyed, can ravage entire systems. If you check your history books, you may find a footnote detailing the failed siege of Mynock-III, during the later stages of the Krogan Rebellions. A massive force of krogan decided to invade the planet, and destroyed the relay to cut off easy access to the system. Later scans found every single object in the system turned into a fine powder, and spread across an expanding radius two or three hundred astronomical units wide."

The committee chair's eyes bugged out. "So you…" he said, speaking faintly, before he trailed off.

"There's more." Hackett nodded. "The explosion created by a detonating relay travels faster than light due to the massive amount of reacting element zero involved. I judged that the sort of destructive power provided by a relay's detonation was necessary. It was the only thing able to let us catch hyper-intelligent AI in a trap." Hackett explained. "I estimate we've killed something like two, three hundred Reapers minimum. That's the uber-conservative estimate. There were twice that number within the central blast zone, and three times that in the surrounding regions."

"But we still only had the one relay connection. We're now almost stranded in the Sol System. How can you justify that to yourself?" the committee chair seemed genuinely confused, but he couldn't wrap his head around the situation.

"The man in charge of the Discretionary fleet is setting up another relay as we speak." Hackett explained.

The committee-chair stood still for a second, processing what the admiral had said. Then his eyes opened wide, and a hopeful smile graced his face. "Man! I mean, you said man. H-he's human?" he backtracked, trying for some clarity in his speech. "The Discretionary fleet is crewed by humans?"

Hackett shook his head. "I've already revealed more than he'd prefer. Suffice it to say that I've met him before, and I trust his judgement. I suggested the plan, and he approved it. I'd like to request that we discontinue this line of questioning, though. I don't want to reveal his identity."

"Of course!" said the committee chair, suddenly more amenable than before. "Is it possible that you could serve as both a military liaison to the Discretionary Fleet's commanding officer, and as the primary military strategist for the duration of the Reaper invasion?"

"That was the plan." Admitted Hackett. "I've been in almost constant contact with the Discretionary Fleet for years now, planning and making preparations for the oncoming Reaper Invasion."

"You were forewarned?" said one woman—the same one who'd been gloating at Mikhailovich. Her brows knit together, and her face twisted into an angry scowl. "Why didn't you bring this to Alliance Command? How long ago did you find out?"

"Would Alliance Command have believed me, ten or fifteen years ago," gasps and mutterings swept across the channel from the committee-chair's press-accessible meeting. "When I explained that an ancient machine-race was coming to wipe out every sentient species in the galaxy?" The admiral waited for the mutterings to subside, but they only grew. "And on the evidence of a man declared dead a century ago, some blurry video footage, odd coincidences, and token reassurances from the one branch of the Alliance that _really_ doesn't exist?" Hackett lowered his voice, referring to the magicals. "I'd have been laughed out of the navy."

"F-Fifteen years?" the committee-chair stuttered. "For all that time, you knew?"

"Why do you think I've been so ardently in favor of increasing the size of the Navy? For the repeal of the treaty of Farixen?" Hackett responded rhetorically, not looking for an answer. "I've been trying to avert the end of the world, gentlemen. The end of all the worlds." The admiral barely hid his smile. He had them, he knew it. If they tried some sort of political maneuver now, they were screwed.

"We…" The committee chair leaned back in his seat. Exhaustion stole over his features. The gloating woman glared. "...I motion for a brief recess." The committee chair's voice dropped. "We'll reconvene in fifteen minutes. Is there a second?"

"Seconded." one of the committee members murmured.

"All in favor-" began the first hologram.

"Aye." All members of the security committee said as one, interrupting the chairman. He looked up, and nodded.

"Fifteen minutes." he said, looking directly at Hackett. Then all the holograms disappeared, replaced with the Sol System Defence Committee's formal logo. Admiral Hackett stepped back, slumping down into his command chair.

"Nothing to do now but wait." he said, answering a few questioning glances from around the bridge.

….

"Sir!" spoke one of Hackett's combat analysts, visibly alarmed. "The frigate screen on the edge of the solar system just got some strange readings." Then, turning to a man on his right, the analyst spoke again, more quietly. "Check this out. That's gotta be wrong…"

"What is it?" Hackett stood, and stepped forwards. Less than eight minutes had passed since the committee had called for a recess.

"I don't know." the combat-analyst said. "But it's massive. It's even larger than the Discretionary fleet flagship!"

"And fast." The admiral remarked. "Put out a priority alert. I want eyes on that thing as soon as it enters the system." he paused. "But do not fire. It's likely another Discretionary fleet vessel. Prepare to hail it as soon as it leaves FTL." Hackett moved to the nearest viewscreen, watching with bated breath.

There was a flash of blue, and a hundred kilometers of steel and alloy arrayed themselves across the screen. The word 'Hephaestus-II' stood out in white letters each more than a kilometer tall.

"Hailing." said an aging comms-technician. "If there's any response, the feed will go to that holoscreen." he pointed at another terminal

"That's the Discretionary fleet, alright." one of the analysts grumbled, with a mix of envy and awe. "Looks like a… mobile drydock of some sort? Twice as large as the citadel, at least."

"Looks like our new Relay has arrived." Hackett said, spotting a long black shape through the forest of manipulator arms, eezo-crucible alloy smelters, and mass effect generators. The nineteen-kilometer relay, longer by far than any Citadel craft, was dwarfed by the super-shipyard. Many other hulls were visible inside the vast framework of steel and alloy. Some hulls were still under construction, glowing amid twitching mechanical arms and eezo fields. Others were being repaired, including a ten-kilometer super-dreadnought with a pair of blackened furrows running three quarters of the entire length of the ship. Hackett estimated that a skilled pilot would be able to fly a frigate through one of those trenches, dug deep into the craft's armor.

Still more ships were clearly support craft for the shipyard, pulling blasted chunks of bulkhead from damaged craft. Others maneuvered minerals towards crucibles and vacuum-forges to be smelted into bulkheads and armor. A set of six hulls flanked the shipyard, each a kilometer long. Hackett glanced at them, and noticed that they too were shipyards, though on a much smaller scale. Cruiser hulls and a few frigates graced the visible sections of those ships.

A pinprick of light appeared over the other holotable, and a familiar—if distorted—voice rang out across the bridge.

"Admiral Hackett!" Harry spoke, jovial. "One relay, lightly used over the course of the last hundred million years. This one's going to Saturn, just a kilometer or three off the A ring. Then I'm slapping a few hundred defense platforms onto some of the denser asteroids in the ring. With the relay as a bottleneck, we shouldn't have to worry much about Reapers coming through this relay. It's not connected quite yet, though. I'm about to take the Charon relay out to Arcturus. It should be properly aligned in about ...an hour and a half, give or take. I'll send a frigate through when it's ready."

"Excellent." the admiral responded. "I'm currently in a holoconference with the Sol Defense Committee, so please keep quiet. They're currently taking a brief recess, and should return momentarily."

"Will do. Call me back when you're free. I've got news." Harry said, then ended the call.

Hackett turned back towards the holoconference table to see the remaining four holographic committee members staring in his direction.

"I motion to bestow upon Fleet Admiral Hackett complete strategic command of all human military efforts for the duration of this war." Spoke the committee chairman. Clearly, he'd overheard most or all of Harry's message, and decided for himself that Hackett, with his connections to the discretionary fleet, would be the best man for the job. "Do I have a second?" he spoke, glancing at his fellow committee members.

"Seconded." spoke two or three voices at once.

"All in favor say aye." spoke the chairman.

"Aye." rang out in stereo from three throats, while the gloating woman glowered, and replied 'Nay," a moment later. But the motion still passed.

"Forgive the lack of pomp and circumstance," said the first hologram, "But you must be busy, and constraints on your schedule could lose you necessary time to plan defenses and such. We'll send a shuttle with the official promotion paperwork, medals, and commendations as soon as they can be gathered together. In the meantime, we'll all have to prepare for the oncoming invasion." The chairman stood, and saluted. "Dismissed." he said, and closed the channel.

Polite applause rang out from all corners of the bridge. Hackett felt the beginning of a headache brewing an hour later, when the ship's night-shift came on duty. The Fleet admiral made his way towards his quarters, and dialed Harry's omni-tool. "Good evening, Harry." he said. "Can you give me the status of the invasion on the turian front?"

"It's going well right now, but it's going to fall apart in less than a week." Harry spoke up, tone grim. "The Reapers are almost at Irune, and I don't have enough ships in the Aethon Cluster to stop them. The good news is that the Reapers are being cautious. The bad news is that means they're massing a few astral units outside Aru, and jumping on any ship that takes the relay into the system. They're only being held off by a new weapon the volus navy just got retrofitted with. They love their missiles, and their newest versions go right through kinetic barriers. No idea how. I'm working on finding out, but I can't make guarantees. Anyway, the volus have this tiny fleet that keeps eviscerating lone Reapers, but they've got to run out of munitions soon."

"Alright." Hackett considered. "We can work with that. Any other news?"

"Heshtok is screwed." Harry began. "The vorcha homeworld has something like thirty Reapers planetside, harvesting the population."

"That's what we anticipated. What we hoped for." the admiral scowled. "Have you started the delaying action?"

"Not yet. Haven't needed to. But I've got something else."

"Resources, legitimacy, positive press, anything I can get you." Hackett replied. "What do you need?"

"It's not like that at all." the wizard grinned, despite himself. "You know the prothean superweapon you were talking about? I looked over the plans for it, and I spotted something." Harry's grin widened. "Runes, all over. It's a magic weapon."

"So your people..." Hackett phrased it as a question, voice inquiring.

"I'm going to see if I can get their help translating the rune alphabet into something legible. Hopefully we get some promising results. If not, we can try and learn the language the other way, instead of translating." Harry explained. "It might take longer, but should work just as well."

"Good, good." Hackett nodded. "That's plan B." He stood a little straighter, and spoke up. "So what's your next move?"

"I'm heading for Solace." said the wizard. "I've got an old friend from school who's probably the best bet to translate the weapon."

"Then godspeed, and good luck." Hackett said.

"You too." Harry saluted, and closed the channel.

…

Almost fourteen hours later, on the Kilimanjaro's bridge, Hackett glanced at his communications officer. "Wilbourne, I need an omni-tool number for Harry Potter."

"Sir?" the officer looked up, confused. "He called you last night, after shift change, you said? I'll look at the number the computer took and send it to you."

"No." said the admiral. The comms officer froze. "I need his personal number. I have another number that would reach him, but I have no explanation for how I could have gotten it." Hackett explained. "I want you to find the number he used before leaving the alliance and ' _going mercenary,_ ' as the officer in charge of his naval base called it."

"Yes sir," said the comms officer. "Um. Sir, If I may ask a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Why? I mean, if you've already got his number…"

"I need a way to contact him that isn't suspicious. Remember, he's technically a mercenary." Hackett said, softly. "But If I call him up, and ask a favor for old times' sake, then it becomes all official. Intel hires on his mercenary crew as paramilitary consultants, and he's got free reign on the battlefield." The admiral nodded, decisive. "That's how he works best."

"Mercenaries...Sir?" the officer grimaced. Reluctantly, he added, "Are they skilled, at least?"

"Relax." Hackett smiled, mischievously. "It's just Mr. Potter and his AI. And if you've been keeping up with security briefings, you'll recognize the name. It's Mortis Solutions we'd be hiring, so yes, they are skilled."

The officer's mouth dropped. " _Holy shi_ -"

"Besides," Hackett interrupted, with a wry grin across his lips as the officer's face colored, "It's been too long since I've worked with an operative with his capabilities. I think it's past time we welcomed him back into the fold."

…..

David Anderson almost smiled, as he glanced over the latest reports from the Martian Shipyards. All bays were turned to retrofit duty six months ago, to equip the fleet with Thanix cannons. Now that was paying off. Almost every single ship in the Alliance had been rotated off duty, upgraded, and sent back into the fray. With the armaments the fleets had carried before the retrofit… Anderson shook his head. Humanity would have lost the war already. The Reapers would have steamrolled through Alliance space, able to eviscerate any ship brave or desperate enough to come between them and their prey.

…...

 _The following excerpt is from the annals of '_ How We Won the Reaper War' _the bestselling twenty-two-gigabyte textbook published in the last months of 2189 for use at the Turian Officer's college on Nanus. This edition has been released to the public at no cost, in order to better educate the general populace on the specifics of the Reaper Invasion. "So much has been shrouded in secrecy," spoke Septimus Oraka, a retired turian general, "and it is time to amend that. During the war, we called it operational security. At the time, most of it truly was top secret. But some information was hidden from the populace simply to keep morale high. Most of the galaxy didn't know we'd lost contact with Illium until we reestablished communications two weeks later. The Department of Wartime Intelligence suppressed that knowledge. Spirits, most turians didn't know that the Reapers glassed Irune until the war was almost over. It is time for the truth to be brought to light."_

 **Chapter Two Hundred Sixty: The Thanix Cannon**

The Thanix Cannon, as of this publication, has become well known as the standard spinal mounted weapon for all Council military craft. Engineers cite sheer destructive force as the impetus for the shift from simple mass-drivers to magnetohydrodynamic weapons, but the truth is less clear-cut than the official narrative describes.

Designs for the weapon were originally reverse-engineered from the shattered remnants of Sovereign, the Reaper Capitol-ship serving as the flagship for the Heretic Geth fleet amassed by the Turian ex-Spectre Saren the Clanless. The prototype was passed through a number of review boards, and was eventually approved enthusiastically for future use. A number of comparisons were drawn, at the time, to the famously powerful armaments mounted on the armada designated by the Alliance as the 'Discretionary Fleet.'

The weapon first saw widespread use in Alliance space, at the first Arcturus Skirmish on the Human front. Admiral Steven Hackett had (days prior) completed a lengthy retrofit to update the entire Alliance navy with Thanix cannons. " _They have proven their worth a thousand times over."_ Hackett said in a press conference in early 2188, as they allowed individual wolfpacks (An Alliance term for a group of four frigates) to take out Reaper Destroyers with an average of thirty-two percent casualties over the last six hundred engagements. Findings from statisticians in the intelligence branch of the Turian Navy suggest that casualties would have been many times higher, if Alliance ships had been armed with solid-shot mass accelerators rather than magnetohydrodynamic cannons.

…

DECLARATION OF WAR FROM THE TURIAN PRIMARCH

By Chisilix Palanurus

CIPRITINE, PALAVEN – The Turian Hierarchy is at war with an unknown force of artificial intelligences, Palaven's Primarch Fedorian revealed today in a brief address carried throughout Citadel space. The speech came just hours after comm buoys went dark near Satu Arrd, the most distant system in the cluster home to the prosperous Vol Protectorate.

Certain rumors were confirmed by the Primarch, suggesting the attackers were the same squid-like ships that attacked the Citadel two years ago, and more recently, batarian space. "The attackers are called Reapers. They are a race of intelligent starships that can turn their prisoners into willing slaves," he said.

Fedorian did little to acknowledge fears that the enemy must have superior technology in order to coordinate two fronts thousands of light years apart. "There are many mysteries about this enemy, but we know enough," he said. "They have attacked our kin and so it is war with them. War until victory. War however long and hard the road may be. War until they can never threaten us again."

Turian response to the Primarch's statement was vociferous. Several inter-and-extranet outages were reported following the speech, as turians vented their anger at the enemy. Primarch Fedorian seemed to have predicted this emotional response in his address, though it remains to be seen if he can contain it. "Now is not the time to be enraged," he said. "Now is the time to harness our will and do what must be done. We must show that the Reapers picked the wrong foe."

Military analysts have revealed that Reaper forces are not yet moving to attack the Volus homeworld. They've been interested only in the system's single Mass Relay, looking to bypass turian fleets in holding positions around the structure.

Stay safe, and keep yourself informed. Now is not the time to give in to chaos. These are dark days, and there are more on the horizon, but Palaven will weather this storm.

…...

"Dobby?" Harry spoke. He looked up from his omni-tool, and collapsed the glowing screens. On a nearby console, a wireframe representation of a house-elf appeared.

"Yes?" A synthetic voice said, echoing from a small speaker in the ceiling. "Are you finally going, then?"

"Set a course for Solace." the wizard said. He stretched, eliciting a series of cracks and pops from his neck and spine.

"So that's a yes." the AI said, almost amused. "Should I prepare a message for Ron and Hermione?"

"...Uh." Harry paused. He blinked once, winced, and leaned back into the massive chair in the cockpit. "Why don't we make it a surprise?" he said, though his tone indicated that he didn't think that was possible.

"Um… No?" Dobby the AI said, incredulous. "You haven't seen them in decades and you want to just drop in?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "...Maybe?"

"You'll get no sympathy from, me, Master Harry." said the AI, in a delightfully reproachful tone.

"For god's sake, I told you to stop calling me that!" Harry's head thunked against the back of the chair. "This is a partnership. I don't—"  
"You programmed me to be like Dobby." Dobby said, cheerfully. "You showed me your memories of him. And if the _great master Harry Potter_ —"

"Gah!" Harry scowled, and sat up.

"—Gets annoyed that I'm calling him by his proper title—" Dobby's voice coming over the speakers was almost criminally self-satisfied.

"Since it's annoying, could you please stop calling me that!"

"—You'll have to suck it up, because you are entirely too much fun to annoy."

"...Oh fuck you." Harry scowled again at the console, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. He leaned back, as the ship's maneuvering thrusters activated. "...I'm gonna have to write the letter, aren't I."

"I forgot my typewriter at home, so it looks like it's up to you." Dobby's voice took on a wry, sarcastic edge. "Let's see how the big bad Master of Death does, hm? Will he be defeated by a letter to his friends?"

"Wanker." murmured the wizard.

"That's not anatomically possible. I'm—" Dobby began, the response coming easily to mind. He and Harry always traded harsh words, but all in jest. They were good friends, by now.

"I know." Harry interrupted, with the ease of long practice. He pulled up an app on his omni-tool as he stared off into the starfield beyond the ship's viewscreens. "Take care of the fleets for me, would you?"

"Of course." The AI responded, the question a mere formality. "Find some solace on Solace, would you?"

"That was awful." said the wizard. He tilted his seat further back as he began to compose a message.

' _Dear Hermione,'_ he wrote. Then he let his hands fall to his chest.

"Fuck." he muttered, and started to comb his thoughts for something he could use. Then, louder, "I'm gonna get hexed to Andromeda and back, won't I."

"I'm not sure." Dobby replied softly. "But it might just be a good idea to have a shield charm on the tip of your tongue."


	21. Foreshadowing or Bust

Hello all. Here's chapter 21!

There has been a bit of a delay. Never fear: I'm still working on this story, and I **do** plan to complete it.

(Hint: If you take a course in writing, writing for fun suddenly feels like homework)

Nonetheless, I still plan on finishing this piece. And editing it. The first few chapters are mostly unbridled power-wank, which is sort of expected for a new author's first piece. I'm currently about halfway done rewriting chapter 1 (as of 6/27/18). Hopefully it will come out better this time. I'm also planning on retconning a couple little details that don't really sit right with me. Notably, changing the name of Harry's mercs from 'Mortis Solutions' to some variation of 'Cloak and Dagger Securities.'

Here goes nothing.

…...

Hermione glanced up at the stars.

She'd always known the Reapers were coming. Ever since Harry's message fell back through the Veil, she'd been preparing. With Daphne's help, humanity had spread across the stars. Magics had been crafted, rituals woven and cast, artifacts built and maintained, and ships sailed between the stars, traveling faster than the speed of thought.

Hermione scowled. They'd had a century-and-a-half of warning, and they still weren't ready. The news from Arcturus had arrived an hour ago, and now everyone was panicking. She stepped forwards, approaching her home. Her wards wrapped around her as she leaned into their embrace. They felt warm, as if she was basking in the sun at noon. Hermione walked along the path leading to her door, glancing at the enchanted gardens surrounding the entryway. One of her great-grandchildren had enchanted them a few years back. Now the flowers wouldn't wilt on her if she ignored them in favor of a book. Again, to the consternation of some of her family.

She noticed something odd. An old-fashioned racing broom leaned up against her doorway. She knew it was familiar. She knew she'd seen that sort of broom before. She couldn't quite place it, though. Her hand touched the door-handle, and the worn brass tingled against her skin. It vibrated once. One person inside.

Hermione palmed her wand, just in case, and turned the handle. The door creaked open, and she heard a faint voice talking.

"–and the support cruisers should be keeping the shield-projectors interlocking and layered, rather than trying to only block the easiest avenues of attack. We're going up against AI. If we leave openings, they're going to take advantage."

A tinny voice answered. Hermione couldn't hear what it said, though she strained her ears as much as she could without magic assistance.

The audible voice spoke up once more, almost irritated. "Yes, I'm aware. Irune is on the line, and it's not happening how I remember it should. They've changed their strategies. I've seen a few runes I'm not recognizing from the old collections, and they're not focusing as much on hard targets. I think they've taken morale damage into account. That's why I missed the Irune push, initially. I got complacent. Remember, you've got command once everything starts. I don't have the reaction time, or the skill."

Hermione, shut the door behind herself, as she tiptoed across her entry hall. The voice grew louder as she approached.

"We've got maybe twelve hours before I think they'll advance, and ten hours still left in transit." spoke the intruder.

Hermione stepped into the doorway of her conservatory, and spotted the source of the voice. A tall man with messy black hair spoke into his omni-tool, while leaning on the railing of a set of steps leading down to the back gardens. The quiet voice replied, before the man answered.

"It's optimistic, I know. The volus have some aces I'm counting on. Some kind of casaba-howitzer thanix missile design. Here's hoping it's as good as they say."

Hermione closed the distance slowly, wand ready. This time, she heard the buzz of the other caller as they responded.

" _Yep. Prediction?_ "

"It's gonna be pyrrhic at best. Still, can't stop a man from trying." said the intruder. Again, Hermione couldn't help but feel that she was missing something.

" _Alright. I've got to go. Here's hoping you make some progress on those runes._ "

"Got it. Be safe, Dobby." Harry spoke. Hermione almost jumped into the air.

"Turn around." she said, with a quaver in her voice. "Slowly, or I'll turn you into a fine mist."

"Hey, Hermione!" The intruder–Harry– turned, with a smile on his face. "How've you been doing?" His eyes crossed as Hermione aimed her wand-point right between his eyes from just a few inches away.

"You bastard. How dare you use his face?" She spat, with tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

"Relax, it's me!" Harry said, lifting his hands to show he was unarmed. "Didn't you get my message?"

"No. Tell me something only he would know." the tip of Hermione's wand glowed an angry red, and dripped sparks.

"Um, you used to draw hearts around Lockheart's classes on your schedule in second year?" Harry said, confused yet hopeful.

Hermione took a moment to process what he'd said. She holstered her wand, and punched him hard in the shoulder. Then she leaped forwards. "Harry!" she cried, just about crushing him in a hug.

"Hermione–" Harry pretended to wheeze. "I can't breathe–"

Hermione stepped back, and glared at Harry for a few moments. "What the hell do you think you're doing!" she finally cried out, voice both exasperated and amused. "You found humans at first contact, and came and visited and then you left?"

"I–" Harry had barely begun when Hermione interrupted him.

"And of all the things you remember from second year you think of that?" Hermione giggled uncharacteristically before she was able to compose herself. "Bloody hell, Harry!" she turned her head, and stepped back. "I feel like I should be offering you tea and baking cookies." she gave a watery smile. "You look as young as some of my great-great-great grandchildren."

Harry's eyes widened. "I've never met any of your family." Harry felt something clench in his gut. "I never knew…"

"I have three children." Hermione said, with a far-away look in her eyes. "Rose, Hugo, and Harry."

"You named one of your children after me?" Harry's breath caught, and his vision blurred. Hermione nodded, with a faint smile. A lump in the back of his throat stopped Harry from speaking, as Hermione continued.

"Rose had four kids of her own, Hugo has two, and Harry has three." Her smile grew. "And each one of them had children, and their children had children. Counting all my children, grandchildren, great-grandkids, great-great-grandkids and so-forth, I have ninety-two grandchildren."

"Family reunions must be something incredible." Harry said, still stunned.

Hermione's voice went hoarse, and tears streamed down her face. "Every single one of them has red hair." she said, with a desperate laugh. "Weasley red hair is a dominant trait, genetically. Have you ever seen a red-haired Malfoy? Rose's kids are hilarious. Half the time I can't tell my own grandchildren apart." she laughed again, longer this time. "Except for when they're Asari. Alexander Weasley, one of the youngest, is happily married with two blue kids."

Harry's eyes opened wide. "Has she been briefed on…" he waved his wand around. "...all this?"

"Come to the next family reunion." Hermione nodded, with a wistful smile. "It's in two months. Every year we head out to a castle I own in the tropics. It's always fun."

"In two months." Harry said, suddenly furious at the reapers, that they might stop him from meeting Hermione's family. "I'll be there. If I have to move heaven and earth, I'll be there."

Harry and Hermione sat next to each other in silence, watching the stars through the windows of the conservatory.

Finally, Harry found the nerve to speak up. "What else have I missed?"

"Ron died in the twenty-eighties." Hermione replied, somber. "George passed a year later."

Harry nodded, with a pained expression across his face. "I knew Ron passed, but I didn't want to be certain." He bowed his head. "I've never even visited the graves. God..." Harry's voice choked up. "I don't even _know_ where he's buried." Hermione looked on in sympathy, and tapped at her omni-tool.

"We always left flowers there from you." She said, eyes distant. "Lilies. Always lilies." A tear rolled down Harry's cheek.

"I must be such a mess right now." he joked, halfheartedly.

"Nobody's pretty when they're crying." Hermione murmured, putting her arm around Harry's shoulder. "It's alright." she said. "You should meet George and Alicia's kids–twins, both pranksters. They joined the Alliance navy. They've had joint command of a black-ops cruiser for half a century. They've had to get some special paperwork and classifications, but they're some of the best."

Harry let out a tired laugh. "I think some of my ships must've been playing tag with them while I was out. The Alliance was trying to take a look at some of my shipyards. Took a devil of a time getting away, according to Dobby. –Er, figuratively, not literally."

"Did you know that there's a monument to you on Hogwarts' grounds?" Hermione changed the subject. Harry froze. "It's almost as tall as the astronomy tower." she added, teasingly.

"Um." Harry's jaw dropped, and he glared at Hermione, indignant. "Who put that up? I told the department that I didn't want any statues."

"It wasn't the Department of Mysteries." Hermione explained. "It was actually Draco's idea."

"Oh my god." Harry let his head fall back against his chair. "Was it purely public relations, or what?"

Hermione nodded. "Good PR, plus he knew it would drive you insane once you got back."

Harry frowned. "He knows me too well." As Hermione laughed, Harry kept talking. "I met him, before I died, the last time. That was… A year and a half ago?" Harry pulled up his omni-tool, before he nodded. "Yep. A year and a half. Jane was dead for the first five months of twenty-one-eighty-three before I brought her back, then it took most of another year to take down the collectors. Then I died." He murmured. "Hmph. Didn't feel that long."

"Draco told me about that." Hermione spoke up. "He was very grateful, and very confused."

"Sounds about right." Harry grinned.

"I have to admit, I'm a little curious about Ms. Shepard myself." Hermione tilted her head. "I won't pry into your relationship, but I thought resurrection was impossible without the Hallows?"

Harry glanced in her direction, measuring. "It is impossible, barring outside help." Hermione's expression turned guarded. Harry winced, and explained. "That came out wrong. It was a balancing of the scales. Something broke one of the rules governing conflict between celestials, and this evened it out. Best for all parties involved."

"The Celestial Compact?" Hermione said, probing.

Harry nodded, and raised his eyebrows. "Where'd you hear about that? It took me a couple years of investigation off-and-on plus a sacrificial goat and a knowledge-spirit."

Hermione smiled, merriment in her eyes behind the drying teardrops. "That sounds just like one of your adventures." She sniffed. "A diplomatic party visited the ICMB about forty years back. All very interesting stuff. But two years ago, both parties stopped communicating with one another. After a few months of radio-silence they told us about the compact, but nothing else. Now the ambassadors are back to being the best of friends." She thought for a second, then looked accusingly at Harry. "Do you happen to know why that would be?"

"Hey!" For a moment, Harry looked indignant, but an embarrassed grin stole its way across his face. "Why'd you instantly assume that I'm in the middle of all this?"

"Aren't you always?" Hermione scoffed. "Really, I bet I could trace you back to most of the events in the news in the last few years."

"Um." Harry laughed. "I can neither confirm nor deny…"

Hermione laughed. "I can see your hand behind all the armaments initiatives and militarist lobbying in the Alliance. It's pretty easy if you know what you're looking for."

"Are they working?" Harry said.

"Yes, but it's scaring the asari." Hermione said.

Harry cocked his head. "I don't follow."

"Think about it, Harry." Hermione felt nostalgic, all of a sudden. Her school-years were long over, but it appeared that teaching Harry would never fall by the wayside. "They're a race that lives more than a thousand years. Long-term expansion is their bread and butter. They don't do all the short-term stuff we humans do. For them, economic power equates to military victory, since most fights between asari are settled on the stock markets, in extranet debates, or corporate takeovers. What trend do you see there?"

"I've heard this before." Harry said, not seeing where Hermione was leading the conversation. "Everything they do takes years and years. That includes military expansion. According to an asari perspective, money equals might because they're used to having enough time to build up militaries."

"Mostly right," Hermione nodded, hesitant. "But you're not the only one lobbying for both long and short-term military expansion. Within the Alliance, Admiral Hackett's a strong supporter of the navy, along with Hahne-Kedar and the rest of the Alliance-affiliated contract companies. Outside the Alliance, the largest lobbying organizations include the Shadow Broker," she winked at Harry. "Plus Cerberus, and Aegohr Munitions, a salarian corporation."

"Wait, how'd you figure that I'm the Shadow Broker?" Harry feigned indignance.

"You used 'Harris Pottis' and 'Bilius Reasley' as aliases for the CEO of Kechlu corp. I guessed based off of the sheer number of shell companies involved with Kechlu, and don't dodge the question."

"You caught me." Harry said, jovial. "So what, there's a lot of money flowing to fund the Alliance. I knew going into this that the Alliance military would be seen as a bunch of warmongering monkeys."

"Yes. That's exactly it." Hermione said, shaking her head in exasperation.

"It's worth it. I need ground troops." Harry spoke. He sounded almost regretful. "I can build a navy, but not an army."

"But the Asari don't see it that way!" Hermione said, exasperation coming to a head. "They're terrified. They're thinking a hundred years ahead. If this keeps up, the Alliance will have enough troops that they could invade a good chunk of the galaxy."

"It doesn't matter now, though." Harry said. "They've got to face the facts."

Hermione's eyes opened wide. "They won't see how important this is unless it gets rubbed in their faces. They'll deliberate until Reapers are landing on Thessia."

All of a sudden, Harry looked a whole lot older. "That's what I thought." he said. "But they've got to fight. Biotic infantry en masse will go a long way towards winning this war."

"We've been preparing for war against the reapers for a century, and we're still not prepared." Hermione muttered.

"You saw the news from Arcturus?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer.

"It's bad." Hermione said. "They sent so many ships for us… and this was their opening salvo." She shook her head. "Tell me honestly. How do we stand? What are our chances of winning against them?"

"About that…" Harry smiled. "We found something in the Mars Archives. The Protheans and the Inusannon before them had a plan for the Reapers. They designed some sort of superweapon, we think."

"...And you need my help to find it?" Hermione asked, drily.

"We need your help to translate the designs." Harry said. "It's a thirty-kilometer long ritual altar. I can put it together, but it's written in Prothean and Inusannon script. I know a million different alphabets and languages from the Reaper I assimilated, but that was millions of years ago. Nothing I know applies to the last couple hundred cycles, so this is new to me. Hell, magic wasn't developed enough way back when to pull off some of the rituals I've seen. Half the rune alphabets I know aren't precise enough for this. I'm good with rituals, but I'm not good enough that I'd stake the fate of humanity on my ego."

"Leave that to me." Hermione spoke with a sense of finality. "I'll translate the runes on that weapons of yours. You've got to collaborate with the Alliance and get the thing built. Once that's done, we can win. Until then we're sinking."

"You don't know how much of a relief it is to have you in on this." Harry glanced downwards. "That's not the only reason I've come." He glanced up at Hermione. "I've felt some of the rituals you've cast from the far side of the galaxy."

Hermione froze. "How?" she asked. "Rituals don't put out that sort of magic reverberations." she shook her head. "It doesn't work like that."

"I'd recognize that brand of bookish and playful anywhere. I kept feeling like your patronus was nearby whenever I felt the ritual. Didn't take a genius to figure it out."

"Do you mean…?" Hermione trailed off.

"I'm the Master of Death." Harry nodded. "The title isn't just for show, but you knew that already." Harry smiled, sadly. "I know you're making Philosopher's stones. Elixir of life, in quantities the universe has never seen. Disrupting the inevitable."

"Is immortality for all so terrible a goal to work towards?" Hermione said, half curious, half cautious. She shifted a little. A nervous tic. "Is there something wrong with wanting the best for everyone I've ever met?"

"No," Harry said. Hermione relaxed, almost invisibly. "But I want you to be careful. Immortality is a power unlike most others. Power of the body is only temporary. Strength of mind, arm, and magic comes and goes. Money, worship, and influence can last for as long as you live."

"Worship?" Hermione looked at Harry. Her eyes widened, and she ran a hand through her hair to hide the ever-so-slight quiver in her fingertips.

"Immortality–really just supernatural longevity– makes power eternal." Harry continued. "It lets you keep your mind sharp for the rest of time. It lets your strength of arm stay with you until the stars above you give out. Eternal life lets dictators sit on their thrones until the worship of their subjects turns them into gods of savagery and hedonism."

Hermione winced. "Yes," she said. "But we can counteract that. We can deal with them before they become a problem."

"It's possible." Harry said. "I won't deny the possibility. But the thing is, we aren't the only species with magic."  
"But we haven't seen anything from any of the other races." Hermione said, certain of herself. "Nothing. None of the detectors went off, nothing's siphoning off the ley-lines on other planets, there's no residue from old artifacts and spells, there's nothing. We're the only species able to access magic."

"You're wrong." Harry made a vague all-encompassing gesture. "Every sentient being has magic. Not much, but they do. A normal non-magical human has just enough for them to do something with it just a few times in their life. Lift a car from off a loved-one. Drag a man twice their size from a burning building. Dodge an oncoming bullet. Us magicals have so much more than they do, enough that we can harness it. Our magic lets us perform miracles. Nearly instantaneous healing. Teleportation. Transforming one thing into another. Telling conservation of mass to go die in a hole. These are all things a magical human can do."

"But no other race has ever been able to do that." Hermione rebuffed him. "There's no evidence that even a single spell has been cast all across Thessia, Sur'kesh, Palaven–There's nothing."

"That's what I'm getting to." Harry explained. "Other races do have magic. Most of it is just natural. More comes with stronger will or determination. Salarians accelerate their brains just a fraction at the cost of their lifespans. Turians don't die on their sun-blasted waste of a planet. Asari biotics find it ever-so-slightly easier to manipulate biotics than humans. That's why asari biotic amps mostly improve biotic strength, rather than control. There's also some weird, mutated asari who kill people by melding with them. I'm not sure if that's magic, though. The Batarians have their Black God. Every batarian on Khar'shan prays to him when they wake and before they go to bed. They bequeath their power unto him, or something like that. That's why they're all terrified into worshipping him, and why he's lived so long. According to their culture and records, he's been leading their society into the future for the last five hundred years."

"Bloody hell." Hermione whispered.

"Yeah." Harry agreed. "It's scary. At least he's getting the shit bombed out of him by the Reapers. Isn't that a sentence I didn't think I'd ever say! If humanity didn't have our own protectors, we might be in a bit of trouble. But this is all part of the reason I want you to be careful with giving out supernatural longevity to the masses. Elixir of life works on every race, and heals almost everything. Beings from all over the galaxy and beyond will want what you have. The batarians, especially. Their so-called Black God would hold civilian worlds hostage for even a single stone. He'd kill trillions. The asari would do the same, though with politics and words. Unless you gave up access to the Stones, the asari would make sure we never traded another credit in Citadel Space. They're long-lived, but they die too. They watch as 'lesser' species come and go, and when death finally comes for them, they don't go gracefully. The salarians would declare war. Forty years is old age for them. Not a single salarian has passed fifty-one. They'd buy eternity with a guerilla war like nothing humans have yet faced. Biological weapons that scour planets down to single-celled organisms. Invisible operatives in every city, bombs in every aircar, cameras watching every face. The krogan wouldn't care. They're biologically immortal already. The vorcha would die in the trillions. There's a reason the media jokes about measuring their lives in months. The oldest vorcha in history hit twenty-eight years old. They can outbreed krogan even without the genophage. The Hanar already have brain-upload tech. The Volus would bribe and buy and sue until something gave."

"I knew it would be hard." Hermione glared up at the stars. "But this is something else. Are you sure about all that?"

"As sure as I can be." Harry answered. "This is the kind of thing that would force us into wars even as the Reapers come down around our heads. We've either got to use it only as a healing agent and call it super-medigel until after the war's over, or we need to wait. Because biological immortality–super-longevity– won't help whatsoever when you take a bullet to the forehead."

"I fucking hate politics." Hermione growled. "Can't do any good in the world without offending a politician."

"It's horrible." Harry shuddered. "And you went into politics. You'd know. Politicians and spooks are everywhere. Doing something like giving out elixir of life is going to step on lots of toes. There's nothing we can do about that." Harry muttered.

"Just like old times. Fix one problem, and a hundred more appear..." Hermione laughed, trailing off. "I can barely remember the last time you visited. Just after first contact." Hermione shook her head. "Visit more," she said. "And not just when we're on the cusp of complete annihilation."

"I will." he said. "I should've visited years ago."

The conversation wound down, until finally both Harry and Hermione stood in silence, emotionally drained and tired enough to drop. Harry wordlessly transferred the Crucible designs to Hermione's omni-tool. They laughed that she hadn't seen his note, and had come in thinking he was some sort of intruder. They spoke quietly, and laughed quietly, until finally, Harry said "I've got to get some sleep. Worlds are turning." Harry and Hermione stared at each other, neither wanting to be the first to say goodbye. A hug, a farewell, and some sniffles later, Harry apparated to his bedroom aboard the Nyx. Just for the night, he opened the observation port above his bed.

Harry and Hermione watched the stars, miles and miles away from each other. Both were asleep only seconds after their heads hit the pillows.

…..

Alarms blared aboard the _Pride of Commerce_ , one of the few Volus dreadnoughts in existence.

"All hands to battlestations!" Called a hissing voice over the intercom. "The Relay is activating. Massive signatures incoming!"

Squat exo-suited figures scrambled from compression-chambers and bunks. The ammonia-filled atmosphere within the ship's hull would be toxic to any other race, but not the volus. Despite the atmosphere of the ship, the crew still wore exo-suits both in case of hull breach and to breathe. The ship's cycling atmosphere wasn't pressurized enough for a volus to survive in it for long. It was only there to keep a volus with a suit-breach alive long enough for medical personnel to arrive. Liquid ammonia condensed along coolant tubes, as the Commerce's engines powered up. The dreadnought shuddered almost imperceptibly, as it accelerated. Blinking lights lit up all across the ship's interior, as kinetic shielding powered up and weapons-systems scanned for hostile craft. A target-designator and IFF system beeped once, then twice, then it let out a continuous whine as ship after ship passed through the relay.

The Volus Admiral leaned back in his seat. His respirator let out a long hiss, as he sighed in relief. "Lower threat level to three." he announced, entering a series of commands on his omni-tool.

"Admiral," - _kscht-_ went the respirator, "We're being hailed." said a comms officer.

…..

Dreadnought-scale thrusters thundered against the ship's bulkheads, making the entire kilometer-long hull of the craft shudder and shake. This was but one of the ships in transit to Irune: super-dreadnoughts ten times the size of any standard dreadnought hull soaring along with the rest of the fleet. A synchronized formation moving well in excess of the speed of light.

All the ships were dwarfed by one massive signature, right in the center of the fleet. This was the Ouranos, a thirty-kilometer monster of steel, alloy, and armor. Guns studded thousands of hardpoints across the craft's hull, and the massive main batteries running the length of the ship could shatter any ordinary craft with a single barrage. This was the flagship, the hammer to smash against the anvil of a Relay, or a series of defense platforms, or any choke point in the galaxy. This was a ship to put the fear of a human God into the hearts of the Reapers.

The fleet passed through the relay, flickering with the blue light characteristic of relay-standard cherenkov radiation. The massive hulls shuddered, as their antiproton drives propelled them forwards.

...

"Onscreen." said the volus admiral. A display lit up a moment later, showing only a pale blue dot.

" _Greetings, Admiral._ " Spoke a human voice, bland enough that it could have been spoken by half the human race. " _Reinforcements have arrived."_

….

"That's when we arrived. The turians were there a couple hours later, but we weren't planning on going out-of-system and letting the Reapers land behind us." Dobby explained. The comlink flickered, despite the quantum entanglement. "I started detecting the rounds then, but I didn't know what they were at the time. Just a number of tiny objects moving pretty slowly on long-range scanners. Neither I nor the turians realized what we were seeing until about six hours after that. It was that volus admiral, Harry. He caught what they'd done. I don't think I've ever been so shocked in my life."

…

"Something's coming up on scans, sir." one of the volus technicians raised a bulbous arm. "Around four thousand contacts, moving at a significant fraction of lightspeed."

"Visual?" said the admiral, before taking another hissing breath.

"On-screen in two minutes, sir. Sensor drone away."

With bated breath, the command staff of the _Pride of Commerce_ watched the feed from the drone as it accelerated to FTL. Two minutes sped by, as noise on the command deck fell to whispers. The beep and hum of the warship's consoles were all that breached the silence of the bridge.

A series of red lines appeared on the screens above the bridge. First one, then as the drone approached, it resolved into a mass of flickering rays, all traveling at an appreciable fraction of the speed of light. Finally, the display let out a ding as it completed its analysis. A readout lit up on a display just under the video feed.

 _Mass Accelerator Rounds_

 _Origin: Reaper_

 _Quantity: (Estimated) 3,820 - 4,240_

 _Destination: Irune_

Muffled whispers echoed around the bridge, as the Admiral lifted a panel and pressed a large red button.

...

"I don't understand yet." The wizard sat back in his cockpit. "When did the evacuation of Irune begin?"

"We put out the emergency signals as soon as I verified the admiral's findings." The AI paused. "Once we realized that all those thousands of dots on the long-range scans were mass-accelerator rounds, I had the admiral hit the message beacons and start the evacuation."

"Where does harvesting a moon for materials fit in there?" Harry scratched his head, both curious and unsettled.

"We needed to evacuate them." the AI replied frankly. "So I blasted one of the system's moons to dust, and fed what I could into the factory-ships. All I needed was to change the template in each fabricator from fighters to shuttlecraft."

"We left too many behind, even then." Harry glanced downwards at the instruments in his cockpit.

"This isn't your fault." The AI replied. "We saved what we could. There wasn't anything you could have done differently."

"I should've predicted this. I knew their strategies would change while I was sleeping." The wizard lifted one hand to eye-level. Wispy smoke poured from his fingertips, collecting in a sphere hovering above his hand. Grayed-out scenes of Reapers in combat and burning ships and stations and worlds flickered rapidly through the sphere, growing faster as the seconds flew by.

"You were sleeping for millennia." Dobby spoke, almost exasperated. "You couldn't have known because you weren't there. You tried your best to counter them, but they've been around for a billion years. You've had thirty." The AI was silent for a moment. "Look, Harry. We're doing what we can. Without us, the galaxy would be stuck in this cycle of destruction. Now, we're giving it a chance. We can't throw that away."

"Let's go kill some Reapers." Harry sighed. "Give me some options."

"I've got good news." Dobby spoke up, almost happy in a vicious sort of way. "We're going into deep space, off the galactic plane."

"The Reapers are already here, though." said the wizard slowly. "We'd be destroying stockpiles, maybe signal relays and repair stations at best."

"Not quite." The AI replied, pulling up a few readings. Highlighted were a series of positions well past the galactic rim. "I've discovered that the Reapers are deliberately elongating this war. They caught on to some of your economic manipulations, and I think they're planning something with the galactic stock market. If they delay, the whole galaxy's economy will crash. Anyway, they didn't bring their whole force. In fact, I don't even think they've brought half of their fleets. I'm assuming that they're trying to draw you out, then pounce."

"You said there was good news." Harry grimaced. "This isn't funny."

"They're inactive. Hibernating. The Reapers are planning on reactivating them gradually, or whenever they gauge our strength." Dobby's wireframe avatar smiled, on Harry's screen. "It's a short window, but we can destroy them while they're hibernating, and when we're done, we've got that teleportation beacon of yours to get back."

"Good." Harry said. A smile crept its way across his features, until it reached almost from one ear to the other. "Let's make them pay."

...

Shepard stepped out of the Normandy's airlock into one of the Citadel's many docking bays.

"Excuse me, ma'am-" a voice called over the hum of the fuel lines even now refueling the ship. Jane glanced over, and spotted the owner of the voice: a customs agent. "-I've got a dataslate for you. Councilor Tevos signed for it herself once she noted the Normandy's docking request."

Shepard turned, and approached the man. He held out the dataslate, and nodded decisively. "I exempted your ship from customs inspections once the bay's scanners determined your identity. Standard procedure for council Spectres, and less paperwork for me. Unless there's anything else, I should go. Safe travels." The man waved, and started towards the doorway leading to the nearest transit terminal.

Shepard glanced down at the dataslate, and pressed her thumb to the scanner. She was startled by a miniscule prick, and pulled her hand away. A little bit of blood oozed from her finger. A familiar voice rang out, as Dobby -Harry's AI- spoke up. "Identity Confirmed: Jane Shepard. Access Granted."

Harry's face appeared on the dataslate. It wasn't a clear picture, nor was the resolution excellent, but it was clear enough that Shepard could see the determination on the wizard's face. "Jane!" Harry said, his tone casual but forced.

"What's going on?" Shepard asked, curious and slightly alarmed.

"I know I told you I'd meet you at the Citadel, but plans have changed. I'll be busy for the next week or three." the wizard replied. Jane couldn't help the knot in her stomach as it clenched hard. She hadn't realized how much she'd hoped to see him again. "I'm sorry. Fortunately for the war effort-" left unsaid was that it was unfortunate for him, "-I've stumbled on something important." Harry continued. "Game-changing. This might give us a chance, even if the Crucible designs don't pan out."

Shepard grinned halfheartedly. "That's just about the first good news I've heard in ages. How much can you tell me?"

"Not much at all." Harry grimaced. "Two of my fleets and I won't be back for at least a week, probably more. Dobby has command of just about everything and a solid quantum-commline, so he'll be able to tell you when I'm done, as well as provide updates. Until then, I think I've got to keep pretty quiet, since I'll be in the thickest parts of the fighting if things go wrong."

In the background, Jane heard the AI's voice call out. " _Reaper signatures detected. All hibernating."_

Harry glanced for a long moment at something out of the dataslate camera's field of view. "Plan's going well so far. I'm thinking three weeks, okay?" He said, speaking tenderly for a rare moment.

"Can't wait." Jane said. Her eyes flickered downwards.

"Jane." the wizard spoke, sincere. "I miss you. I can't wait to see you again."

Dobby's voice in the background rose. " _Firing Axial Guns."_ the AI said, and the video feed of Harry's face shook and dissolved into static for a quarter-second. The static burst repeated six seconds later.

"I miss you too." Jane replied. The knot resting above her stomach eased, ever-so-slightly. "Be safe."

"You as well." The wizard said. "A fleet engagement's just begun. I have to manage. I'll catch you another time, Jane."

She exchanged another round of pleasantries before her finger brushed the 'end-call' button, and the screen went black.

"Three weeks." She mumbled to herself, and wrapped her arms around her chest. "Three weeks."

…

Within the docking bay, precision and military efficiency was the rule. Outside, the rest of the Citadel was in chaos. Crowds screamed and yelled, some waving signs in protest, some trying to get into the transit terminal. Many of them were simply trying to get home to their families or their homeworlds. Nonetheless, it was a scene wholly unlike anything Shepard had seen anywhere on the Citadel. Jane made her way easily through the crowds to the Citadel's internal tramway/elevator system, aided by the imposing visage of her heavy armor and heavier guns. Thankfully her SPECTRE authority allowed her to speed up the elevators, else the transit would have taken half an hour to take her from the far edge of Tayseri Ward all the way to the Presidium.

She arrived on the Presidium, stepping out onto a balcony overlooking the lake at the lowest level of the structure. Above her, the aircar lanes were far busier than she'd seen before. A shuttle bearing C-Sec's logo swept downwards a block away. The vehicle's side door opened fast, as it descended to a nearby landing pad.

Jane's omni-tool buzzed, registering a priority message. She glanced down. Her eyes widened imperceptibly as the device lit up with a council signature.

"This is Shepard." she said as she picked up the call.

"Spectre." the voice of Councilor Tevos played from Shepard's earpiece. "I need a miracle." The Asari's voice sounded strained, and Jane could almost hear the strain the councilor was under.

Jane pursed her lips, considering Harry's cryptic message, and the bombshell of his revelations about the crucible, days earlier. "Let's meet in person. I think I might have one."

"Thank the gods." Tevos replied, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her back. "Where can we meet?"

"The Normandy's our best bet. Harry spent some time aboard, so it's free of bugs." Shepard explained. "Take a shuttle to Docking bay Tayseri-three-thirty-two. I'll open the Normandy's shuttlebay."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes." Tevos said. "See you soon." She hung up, and started for the door. Then, muttering to herself, Tevos said " _Oh_ , _my security detail is going to hate this…_ "

Shepard glanced around, ducked behind a doorway, then activated the portkey around her neck. With a _pop_ , she appeared on the bridge of the Normandy. "Open the shuttle-bay doors," she spoke aloud for EDI to hear. "Councilor Tevos will be here soon. She and I need to have a very… private... conversation."

"Remember, Shepard." said EDI, tone sarcastically dry. "Once you go blue, nothing else will do."

Shepard turned an incredulous face towards the nearest holo-transmitter displaying EDI's avatar.

"Too much?" The AI said, her voice innocent-as-could-be. Shepard could barely detect EDI's veiled amusement. On the other hand, she could hear Joker's laughter all the way from the back of the CIC.

…

Tevos' shuttle landed in the Normandy's shuttlebay with nary a whisper. Powerful engines spooled down, using barely a fraction of their maximum capacity. One of the armored side-doors opened, and an asari bodyguard stepped out, wary hand on the butt of her pistol. After no hostile contact occurred, the bodyguard gave an all-clear gesture and stepped further into the room. Another four bodyguards followed, and then, finally, Councilor Tevos stepped from the aircar, armored as fully as she could be.

Shepard walked forwards, unarmed and unarmored. The bodyguards tensed as she approached. One of them held up an omni-tool, and scanned her. "Identity confirmed," the turian said, clearly on edge.

"Everything alright?" Jane queried, confused at the nervous security-presence.

Tevos stepped forwards, pushing past one of her bodyguards. "They think I'm walking into a trap." she said, frankly. "Is this a trap, Shepard?"

"Uh, no?" Shepard said, suddenly worried. "Do you want to meet somewhere else? You could get back in the shuttle, if this isn't safe enough."

"I think it's all unnecessary." Tevos said, brushing aside one of her bodyguards as she approached Shepard. "They're worried because we don't know what's in your cargo holds, as your spectre clearance was used to pass customs. It's standard procedure for Spectres, so it's just worry over the unknown. For all we know, your bays are empty."

"And the terrifyingly high biotic rating, Councilor." said the asari bodyguard, audibly exasperated. "That's the other concern."

Tevos sniffed. "I don't care about the biotic rating. Murder with biotics requires intent. I know you're smart, Shepard. You wouldn't call a meeting like this to get me killed."

"O...kay?" Shepard's tongue stumbled as her train of thought derailed. She shook her head, forcing herself back on topic. "...I've got the starboard observation deck blacked out. No cameras, no bugs, nothing. Perfect spot for a private conversation."

"I will not-" The turian bodyguard opened his mouth to object, but Tevos shut him down.

"I trust Spectre Shepard." Tevos said, glaring. "If she wanted me dead, she's had ample opportunity to pull it off whether by action or inaction."

The bodyguard wordlessly conceded the point.

"Follow me." Shepard said, after few seconds of silence. With a hiss, the central lift's doors opened. Shepard stepped inside, and sighed as the first bodyguard stepped into the elevator, waited a moment, then gave an all-clear. The lift lowered one level, as the councilor's bodyguards' eyes drifted nervously around the lift's interior.

"This way." Jane said, stepping out of the elevator. She turned, walking towards the observation bay, and found herself alone at the door. She glanced over her shoulder, and spotted the lead bodyguard once again peering about methodically, before giving an all-clear. She could almost feel the beginnings of a migraine stirring in the back of her head.

"Look," Shepard said despairingly, "I know you're going to take the helmet-footage back to your commanding officers and cover your asses, but this next part will just be you five staring at the bulkhead while the councilor and I talk about classified things."

The bodyguards' silent fidgeting was damning.

"Right." Shepard said drily. "Go check the observation bay for bugs and explosives and such. Make sure the pool table isn't a geth, and that I didn't hide a shotgun in the liquor cabinet. Just make it quick, would you? The sooner you're done, the sooner you can get the councilor out of here."

Almost fifteen minutes later, two of the five bodyguards came back out to join Shepard, Tevos, and the third, fourth, and fifth guards. "It's safe." one of them said, and stepped aside.

"Thanks." Shepard muttered. The door hissed open again as she approached. Rather undignified, Jane slumped down in one of the couches looking out through the observation windows. Thanks to the ship's angle, she had a beautiful view of the Widow Nebula over Tayseri Ward. Ships flew by, leaving almost-invisible wakes of pink particles against the blackness of space. Shepard patted the side of the couch, indicating for Tevos to sit down. "EDI," Shepard said aloud, "Scan and destroy listening devices. Secure the room."

Tevos looked around for the source of a faint pop, and the nearly-inaudible _eeee_ of one of Harry's anti-eavesdropping devices.

"You said you had something." The councilor began, prodding gently.

Shepard held up her omni-tool, and wordlessly displayed a hologram of the Crucible's designs. Tevos looked askance at the Spectre. "The Crucible." she said. "We found this in the Mars Archive. Prothean plans for a superweapon. A device to 'put an end to the Reapers.'" Shepard made air-quotes at the last line of the phrase. "That's the closest Harry, Liara and I can get to an accurate translation from Prothean to English, anyway."

Tevos didn't quite go bug-eyed at that, but it was close. "And will it work?"

Jane sidestepped the question. "Have you had the briefing on M-class Alliance citizens?"

"Your 'magical' population, yes." Tevos frowned.

"The Protheans had magic too." She tried to drop the bombshell gently, but to no avail. "Not the same way humans do, but Harry thinks that there's one constant, more or less. Runes, he calls them." here Shepard's explanation grew stilted, as she skirted the edges of what she knew about magic. "Sort of like programming a computer by writing out symbols and such." Jane was privately glad to see that Tevos had even less knowledge on the topic than she did. "It's called a ritual when you combine many rune-programs for a single result. Sometimes, if the ritual is complex enough, the caster needs a ritual altar. The altar serves as a combination of a focus and an amplifier. Stonehenge, on Earth, is one of the better examples of that." Shepard held up a picture of the standing stones, some of them fallen and all of them lichen-covered and mouldering away.

"...I think I follow." Tevos said, tentative. Her puzzled expression belied a keen glint in her eyes, a desire to know more.

Jane dragged her hand across the designs of the Crucible, and the picture grew closer and closer to the structure until a vast network of lines and symbols hove into view. "The entire Crucible is a thirty-five kilometer ritual altar." she said. "Apparently, a ritual of that size could cover the galaxy."

"So it might just be able to pull off what the designs promise." as she watched, lines dropped away from Tevos' face. It was the first relieved expression Shepard had seen the councilor wear in years. The Councilor and the Spectre sat in a companionable silence for a few minutes, watching the traffic above Tayseri Ward as it flew through the fringes of the Widow Nebula. In that moment, they were neither councilor nor Spectre. They were simply hopeful, for the first time in what felt like years.

Finally, Tevos glanced at her omnitool and stood, regretfully. "Shepard," she said, "Thank you for this. I won't spread the news any further. I wish I could stay, but my security team is getting worried."

"Be well, Councilor." Jane replied, content to stay on the couch for a while longer.

...


End file.
